Fallen Angels
by wyles77
Summary: Six months after the fall of the Reapers, the survivors of the harvest are slowly trying to rebuild their shattered communities and civilisation. Not everyone, however, has the same idea of what the new galactic civilisation should be. Can Commander Rachel Shepard and her intrepid crew protect the fledgling peace they fought so hard to win? Sequel to Better Angels.
1. Prologue: The State of the Galaxy

**A/N****: _Well, here we go, folks. What better day to kick this off than Commander Shepard's birthday? _**

_**This is dedicated to all of you out there, for your support and encouragement of my work, for your requests, your feedback, your differing points of view, your humour, and above all, for just taking the time to engage with me and what I'm writing. It means the world to me, it really does. So thank you, and please enjoy. Bioware owns Mass Effect and its characters and universe, the only things I own are a mild obsession, one or two OCs, and a couple of plot devices.**_

* * *

**Prologue - The State of the Galaxy**

FAO: RADM H. J. SHEPARD, ORIZABA GROUP ACTUAL, FIFTH FLEET, SYSTEMS ALLIANCE NAVY

CLEARANCE: CODEWORD, EYES-ONLY ULTRAVIOLET

PERSCOMM:

_Rear Admiral Shepard,_

_Greetings. Per your request, please find your latest report ready for download from the usual location. My employer offers their personal congratulations on your new appointment, and has amended the parameters relevant to your interests accordingly. New information that is deemed pertinent to the Citadel Defence Force will be included going forward. My employer trusts, as ever, in your discretion regarding the dissemination of these data and their provenance._

_Should you require any more in-depth information on a specific topic, do not hesitate to contact us through your approved channels._

_Have a pleasant day,_

_Operative Glyph_

ENDPERSCOMM

REPORT DATE 05/17/2187:

Successful activation of Caleston mass relay has massively reduced travel time and stabilized communications protocols within the Terminus systems, provided a direct relay route to the Perseus Veil and completed the Council's objective of connecting those relays designated of primary strategic importance (Athena, Caleston, Charon, Crescent, Eagle, Exodus, Horsehead, Serpent). All secondary node systems are now accessible in the outbound direction. Work is commencing on the secondary strategic targets, with Apien Crest and the Krogan DMZ relays prioritized.

Turian intelligence reports rumours of civil unrest on Palaven. Primarch Victus has requested Council aid in conducting an impartial investigation. Spectre resources have been dispatched to assist. A severe state of famine continues to persist, increasing susceptibility to viral infections arising from shortages in clean water supplies. Casualties reported by the hierarchy are declining incrementally, currently listing 15,000 per day above baseline mortality (including ongoing identity assignments to personnel listed as missing in action and previously unidentified dead).

Asari authorities are maintaining a state of critical emergency across the Republics. Accommodation, food, and medical supplies continue to be acute problems. Medical reports also indicate that dependence on imported rations, while drastically reducing the number of casualties from starvation, are beginning to contribute to health issues related to reduced eezo intake. Supplements are being issued where resources are available but with pharmaceutical manufacture and refining at a limited capacity and restoration of a steady supply via agricultural produce hampered by infrastructure damage, the long-term impact of eezo malnutrition on the asari population as a whole is uncertain. Daily casualties above baseline mortality (including identification of the already deceased): 20,000.

Salarian Union intelligence reports a stable situation on Sur'Kesh. Lack of off-world infrastructure is hampering some rebuilding effort, most notably in the spheres of communication and trade, however, since Sur'Kesh suffered considerably less damage than Palaven, Earth, or Thessia, the general standard of living and care is sufficient for the Dalatrasses to have ended the official state of emergency across all Salarian territories. Sur'Kesh remains a net provider of both comestibles and construction materials to the other races. As such, the salarian economy is stable and capable of supporting its native population, if nowhere near pre-war levels of turnover. Daily casualties above baseline mortality (including identification of the already deceased): Negligible – war casualties are accounted for, and the dense biosphere of Sur'Kesh proved to be a more effective barrier to the Reapers than the most advanced defensive architecture.

Information on the Quarian situation remains sparse. The reconnection of the Caleston relay should improve communications in the coming weeks as travel to the Perseus Veil has been greatly simplified. Councilor Zaal'Koris reports that his people continue to focus their colonization efforts on the main southern continent of Rannoch, but that progress is slow without the assistance of the geth, and hampered by high incidences of adverse immune system response and anaphylaxis episodes. The question of attempting the revival of the geth species remains a point of bitter contention amongst the Admiralty Board, with no resolution likely to be forthcoming in the near future.

The Krogan population, converse to all other races, is growing steadily. Infant mortality through lack of medical resources persists at a rate that would be of concern to most other races, however there is no significant data to suggest related civil dissatisfaction. Dissident factions unhappy with the union of the clans under Urdnot Wrex's rule continue to launch hit and run terrorist attacks across Tuchanka, but Councilor Bakara is confident that such incidents can be handled locally. Rumours of Reaper tech salvage are starting to drift through local comm networks. Our agents are investigating.

Alliance military and civilian intelligence reports indicate steady improvement on Earth, with infrastructure, communications and industrial networks bolstered by in-system logistics requirements for the Citadel. Key pharmaceutical facilities in China, India, and Russia have recently been restored to full capacity output, and as a result the mortality rate on Earth has dropped sharply in recent weeks. The general election called to appoint a new Prime Minister and parliamentary representatives is scheduled to take place in ten days' time, and will represent the first time since the fall of Arcturus that a unified, democratically elected supranational assembly has governed the affairs of the Alliance's member states. Current polling data suggests the conservative, isolationist Terra Firma party are poised to win a majority of seats, expanding their political interest beyond their nation state core support. Daily casualties above baseline mortality (including identification of the already deceased): 5000.

A recent exploratory survey dispatched to the Kite's Nest reported no life signs. The Council is to declare the Batarian people functionally extinct and cease all diplomatic, trade, and communication functions with the Hegemony from the end of this month. Similar to the elcor, a small population of individuals is recognized as being extant in other locations throughout the galaxy; however, while the surviving elcor have formed a community structure in order to continue to have representation as a unified race for the remainder of the survivor's lives, no such accord has been reached among the batarians.

Kahje remains inaccessible; the planetary defence network remains active, prohibiting any exploratory approach. With the complete destruction of the Hanar fleet in the Battle of Earth, and the loss of the entire Hanar diplomatic corps aboard the Citadel, it has not been possible to establish communication with the Hanar government. Further enquiry is pending.

The vorcha civilisation on Heshtok remains intact, having successfully repelled any significant Reaper attempts at harvests. While the number of vorcha individuals encountered off-planet has declined sharply as a result of the Reaper invasion, the core population of the species appears to be undiminished.

Reports from the Terminus systems and Attican Traverse remain minimal. Omega is known to be stable and sustaining its population through Aria T'Loak's criminal organization, but as yet there are no plans to reconnect Sahrabarik to the relay network. It is expected that insight into the Terminus situation will improve as travel through the Caleston relay increases. Colonies in the Traverse continue to be disconnected; it is likely that re-establishing contact with outlying communities will reveal significantly increased casualties.

Of personal interest to the client: the GCV Normandy is currently deployed to Palaven, mission status: classified. Dr. Liara T'Soni is currently ashore on Thessia, assignment status: classified.

END REPORT


	2. Sunrise

**Chapter 1: Sunrise**

**Stormbreaker Bay, Silver Coast, Thessia**

The sun broke the horizon over the dark salt expanse of the ocean, a bright promise of a new day.

Elana stifled a yawn with her fist as she glowered at the sudden, inconsiderate cheer of the ochre-stained sky. She resented being out of bed so early, resented being banished to the ass-end of the estate to sit a watch over a gate that no one ever used, resented that her mother had forced her into this chore. "_Just because the galaxy thinks she's some big hero doesn't mean she gets to order us around!_" Elana had exploded at her mother when given the news of her new employment. "_You're a matriarch, for Athame's sake!_" But her mother, ever the slave to protocol and tradition, had capitulated meekly to the barely adult "Head of the House," Elana's bossy, overbearing youngest cousin, and so here she was, sentenced to this slow death of sentry duty on the coast gate in the name of 'learning the ropes on basic security protocols.'

"It's high time you started learning what it takes to run an estate," her mother had sniffed unsympathetically. "You could learn a great deal from your cousin's example."

Immersed in her sulk as she sipped at her lukewarm tea, it took Elana a few moments to realise the sensor net had tripped, and that the red light on the haptic interface flickering annoyingly in her peripheral vision was in fact an incoming ship warning. Fit of pique banished by a rush of adrenaline, she hauled herself upright in her chair and began running scans.

_Systems Alliance Kodiak short-range shuttle, registry classified_, the computer informed her. A landing craft from a larger vessel in orbit. The IFF registered as non-hostile, although the ident codes were shielded by myriad layers of encryption. Frowning, Elana hit the hail frequency, but the measured, patterned static of secure comms was her only response, aside from a landing clearance code a week out of date. Probably not a threat, then, but still...

Cursing, the maiden activated the defence force fields, keyed open the armoury locker, and retrieved a shotgun, a basic model that nonetheless was powerful and reliable. Priming the clip, she left the gate post and advanced cautiously toward the landing pad, where she could already see the small spacecraft beginning its landing cycle.

The livery wasn't one she recognized, not one of the Terminus merc bands, the silver and black of Omega, or the white, black and red of her cousin's private information broking firm. The shuttle was white, with a broad royal blue horizontal stripe trimmed with sky blue on its starboard side. It bore no registry number, and no insignia. Barely had it closed to within six feet of touchdown than the hatch was already swinging open, and a lone figure dropped from the still-hovering deck to the pale concrete of the landing pad. The figure, shadowed by the sun behind them, turned back to the shuttle hatch, caught the bag tossed out after them, raised a hand in salute, and the little craft began to lift again without having even set landing gear on the ground.

Elana hefted her shotgun as the figure approached, picking out details as she rounded the bend in the path from the gatehouse. Their visitor was a human female, tall and well proportioned, with a curtain of neatly kept deep red hair falling to her jawline. She was wearing a black leather jacket with reinforced shoulders and elbows, a black shirt, and khaki combat trousers with heavy black combat boots. A tactical holster strapped to her right leg carried a Phalanx heavy pistol. Her gait was balanced and economical, with the lethal grace that marked the few commandos Elana's cousin had managed to secure the services of for the estate. This human was dangerous, Elana was suddenly sure. Popping the safety and aiming the shotgun at the centre of the human's chest as she'd been taught, she tried to project confidence into her voice. "That's close enough, human. What do you want?"

The human arched one eyebrow at the challenge, then set the bag down and raised her hands slowly. "Good morning," she offered in a pleasant, husky contralto. "My name's Rachel. I was told by Dr. T'Soni that this landing pad was seldom used, and I didn't want to draw any attention to my arrival."

Elana lowered her shotgun fractionally. "Oh. You're one of Liara's agents?"

The human's expression quirked into an odd smile that lit up the green of her eyes. "I work with Dr. T'Soni, yes," she agreed. "She's expecting me."

"We'll see about that. I'll need your sidearm," Elana informed her, gesturing with the shotgun for emphasis. The human nodded carefully, pulling the pistol and handing it over butt first. "Good." She activated her omni-tool. "Now, I'll need a handshake from your omni-tool to log you onto our security network."

The human complied without complaint, and Elana confirmed she had the biometric data logged and submitted it to be synched to the house network. "All right, that's fine. The Chief will run a full identity check when we get to the house. I'll escort you in now. Come with me, please."

They walked along the path back toward the headland in silence. When they reached the gatehouse on the cliff top, the alien female turned to look out over the expanse of the ocean rolling toward the towering quartzite cliffs that gave this stretch of coastline its name. The rising sun struck sparkles on the waves and the rocks, making the whole vista shimmer with dancing silver. "Beautiful view," the human remarked laconically.

"The Silver Coast has long been considered one of Thessia's greatest natural treasures," Elana informed her guest stiffly as she deactivated the force field.

"I can see why," the human nodded. "Those cliffs are really something. Christ, they go down forever. Nice place to have your country retreat."

"Stormbreaker Bay was the original seat of House T'Soni. My family have lived here for generations," Elana admitted, then she scowled as she realised she'd said too much. This human could be anyone. If she was lying about being one of Liara's agents, if she was here to cause trouble, Elana had just pointed out her own value as a hostage. Swinging the shotgun back up, she jerked her head at the alien. "Move along. We don't have time to dawdle."

The human shrugged and resumed walking two paces in front of Elana, bag slung over her shoulder, free hand shoved into her pocket. They followed the path up over the low rise of the headland, the house and formal gardens coming into view as they crested the small hill. The human stopped again, mouth dropping open slightly at the size of the house, or possibly, at the dozens of tents arrayed neatly across the carefully tended lawns. "Jesus, this place is huge!" she exclaimed. "She never let on," the human added cryptically as she turned to Elana. "Those tents - they're for refugees?"

"Yes," Elana confirmed. "When the Reapers came, many people fled the cities, hoping to find refuge where there were fewer towns and villages. We're far from any city here, but word gets around, and since the day of the victory, more and more people have found their way to the estate, seeking food and shelter. We do what we can, but the house is no longer big enough to accommodate them all. When winter comes, I don't know what we're going to do."

"Do you have everything you need?" the human asked, and Elana could hear genuine concern in the question. This human definitely wasn't like most of Liara's agents.

"We could always use more food, more medicine," Elana admitted. "The supply networks aren't getting us enough to cater for everyone adequately. Everyone's eating for now, but there's no buffer. If the next shipment doesn't arrive, we'll all be going hungry."

"Maybe we can do something about that," the human murmured softly. Elana frowned at her.

"I don't see how it's your concern. Come on, I need to take you to the Chief."

Elana let her charge lead the way into the entrance foyer, the human staring wide-eyed at the grand, marble-sheathed reception area with its sweeping double staircase and the immense chandelier falling in curtains of crystal droplets from the high ceiling. "Woah," the woman breathed, after letting out a long, low whistle that echoed off the polished walls.

"Where in the name of Athame's sacred azure have you been?" The gravelly voice boomed from the far corner of the room, loaded with exasperation, and Elana cringed as Matriarch Aethyta strode out into the reception hall with Captain Shiala at her heel. Opening her mouth to defend her actions in bringing the agent to the house, the young asari looked accusingly at the human, and forgot what she wanted to say as the alien female laughed, setting her bag down before starting forward with open arms, not at all intimidated by the Matriarch's wrath.

"I got tied up on Palaven for a few days longer than I wanted. And I _did_ call ahead to say so."

Aethyta swept the human into a rough hug. "Yeah? Well, whatever message you sent didn't get through. She's been insufferable for the past week. You need to get up there and get all uncivilized. And I'd think of a better excuse than that if I were you - admitting you're late because you went drinking with Vakarian will probably get you a lashing, and not the kinky kind you might enjoy either."

A faint blush coloured the human's cheeks at Aethyta's comments, and Elana grinned at the innuendo, but the human's voice was level and controlled as she replied. "It happens to be the truth. It's a long story. Besides, Garrus is on Rannoch building the great dextro-lifeform love-nest with Tali. And there was only one drinking session involved, but I can't exactly turn down invitations from Primarch Victus, now can I?" She cocked her head to regard the green-skinned security chief. "Is she really mad, Shiala, or is Daddy here just getting her kicks for the day?"

The battle-scarred commando captain chuckled. "No, she's not really mad. Worried, perhaps, but communications here are always patchy, and she's used to better. She's been working long hours, late into the night, trying to improve things for the refugees we've taken in. And being separated from one's bondmate is always unsettling - she's not used to that either."

The human shivered slightly. "Yeah, tell me about it. OK, clearly I have work to do - where is she?"

Aethyta pointed up the left side of the main staircase. "First floor, left hand side are her personal apartments. As far as I know the biometric recognition should be primed." The matriarch grinned lecherously. "Bedroom's the last door on the right. And I know the walls are soundproofed - best investment in home improvement Benezia and I ever made."

The human winked at Aethyta as she retrieved her belongings, then she skirted around the two older asari and started up the left-hand staircase two at a time. "Wow," Aethyta leered, "someone's got it bad. And hey, Rachel?"

The human halted at the top of the stairs, shoulders tensed with sudden frustration. "_What_, Aethyta?"

"Welcome home, babe."

"Thanks." Rachel looked back down at Elana. "By the way, Shiala, you might want to teach the kid there about the need for backup, and, more importantly, how to carry a shotgun. I'm amazed we made it up to the house without me being perforated. Now, if you'll excuse me," she grinned a lopsided, insouciant grin, "duty calls..." And with that, she was gone through the doors into Liara's personal apartment.

"Who the hell does that human think she is?" Elana snarled hotly, affronted by the assessment of her skills. She might not be a commando, but she knew how to use a shotgun well enough. "I don't care if she's Liara's lover, she can't…" she trailed off in horror, staring at Aethyta in disbelief as the human's identity fell into place in her mind. "Oh Goddess."

Aethyta snorted with contemptuous amusement. "There we go. Took you long enough. Yes, Elana, _that human _thinks she's Commander Shepard, Saviour of the Galaxy, Council Spectre, and general all-round kick-ass war hero, so if she's of the opinion that you need to work on your shotgun skills, kid, you'd be well advised to listen."

Elana's cheeks flamed with sudden embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands. "Is it too early to want to start drinking?" she asked plaintively.

Aethyta chuckled. "Never, kid. Never."

**oOoOo**

Commander Rachel Shepard closed the antique door to the apartments and walked quickly down the carpeted hallway to the last door on the right, marvelling at the opulence of her surroundings. _Somehow, even though Liara described this as an estate, I didn't imagine it'd be anything like this_. At another time, she might have been intimidated by the trappings of her bondmate's considerable wealth, but right now the only thing she was able to focus on was her growing awareness of the asari's presence. Ever since she'd come into view of the house, the dormant link to Liara, tucked away in the depths of her mind, had been clamouring for attention, becoming more and more insistent as the distance closed. Right now, she could tell her bondmate was sleeping. Easing the bedroom door open carefully, she slipped quietly into the room, taking care to close the door just as softly, then stood still for a moment to take in the view. The large, airy, white-walled room was illuminated gently by the dawn light seeping in through the large windows that commanded most of the wall to her left. Pale net curtains screened the room from the outside world, but the heavy blackout curtains remained tied neatly back. Liara disliked total darkness, always preferring a nightlight be left on aboard the Normandy. The centre of the room was commanded by a large bed on a raised dais, flanked by two nightstands. The bedclothes were pure white, wrapped lovingly around the naked body of the asari sleeping beneath them.

Shepard bent and unstrapped her boots, sliding them off and tucking her socks into them. Shucking off her jacket and trousers to drop them carelessly beside her footwear, she padded across the carpeted blue expanse of floor to the dais, stepped up and sat on the side of the bed.

The view from here was much better, she decided, drinking in the sight of Liara's familiar but breathtaking beauty, the dappling of silver and white along her crest-line, the fine eyebrow markings, the soft dusting of freckles across her delicate nose and high-boned cheeks, the dark, full lips parted slightly with the deep, even breathing of sleep. Shepard could not resist touching, reaching out to lay her palm lightly against the smooth skin of Liara's cheek. Unconsciously, Liara nuzzled into the touch, and Shepard leaned in to place a soft kiss on her bondmate's temple before standing, rounding the bed and sliding carefully in behind Liara. If she needed sleep, Shepard was loath to wake her, so she settled herself, draping one arm carefully across the silken expanse of Liara's abdomen and drawing the asari back against her, spooning in close. Liara sighed and shifted back against Shepard, and the human dropped a light kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

"Rachel?" Liara's sleep-choked voice murmured.

"Shhhh. Sleep, Li. I'm here," Shepard soothed, stroking the asari's stomach placatingly and sending a pulse of warm reassurance across their bond. "I'll be here when you wake."

"Mmm..." Liara's breathing dropped back into a regular cadence, and Shepard smiled as she closed her eyes and relaxed, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her bondmate. She was on shore leave. A little nap was perfectly permissible...

**oOoOo**

Liara woke gradually, naturally, absent the need for an alarm clock or, worse, Glyph's incessant nagging. Her world was a cosy, safe cocoon, sheets nested around her, a strong arm draped around her midriff, the heat of a body at her back… With the latter realization, the asari snapped into full wakefulness. She had gone to bed alone. The sensation of protective warmth did not dissipate, and Liara smiled as she craned her neck to look back over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of auburn hair.

Rachel.

_Finally_. Over the last week, as the deadline for Shepard's arrival had come and gone, Liara had tried not to be concerned, but the lengthening silence coupled with the already itchy sensation of being beyond the range of mental contact with her bondmate had made her edgy. Not knowing was an all too unpleasant reminder of the time she'd already spent without Shepard. _She's here now_, Liara chastised herself, shifting onto her back. _Over-analyze your insecurities later_. Reaching over, the asari stroked her thumb across her bondmate's silk-soft lips. "Rachel?"

Shepard stirred, green eyes fluttering open, and a lazy smile spread across her face as she focused on Liara. "Hi there, beautiful," she murmured. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better for you being here," Liara admitted. "I was worried." Mentally, she kicked herself as the confession slipped out; bad enough that Shepard would be able to feel it without her verbalizing the emotion so soon. "Goddess, I'm sorry, I..."

"Shhh, it's OK," Shepard assured her, her warm palm smoothing a broad, comforting circle over Liara's stomach. "I know. I should be the one apologizing. The mission on Palaven went a little sideways, and took longer than I thought it would. I did try to call, but your Dad said no message came through."

"The comms relay is unreliable. Something to do with the transmitter." Liara let out a breath and shivered as Shepard's touch meandered up to her breast and became something much less soothing. "I haven't had a chance to, oh... go out and look at it - there's been, ah... so much else to attend to."

"I'll get Adams and Donnelly down to take a look at it for you," Shepard offered, fingers finding Liara's nipple and pinching it gently. "Push some buttons, so to speak."

Liara groaned, partly from arousal, partly from exasperation at the pun. "Rachel, for the love of Athame..." She cut off as Shepard leaned in and kissed her, tongue tangling with hers to silence her physically. Liara grinned into the kiss, and opened her link to Shepard's mind a little more, gasping as her bondmate's love and steadily kindling passion washed over her in a heated wave, augmenting the coiling tension in her own belly.

_Hi there._ Shepard's mental voice was tinged with amusement.

_Hello to you too. _

_So, your Dad said I should come up here and get you laid. Was she wrong?_

_Oh Goddess. Really?_

_Really. And since you seem reluctant to actually answer my question, I guess I have to find out for myself. _Shepard's hand ran tantalisingly down Liara's body, her fingers dipping into the damp heat between Liara's legs, skating provocatively over the sensitive nub at the top of her azure, causing her to arch up into the human's touch with a gasp as her arousal spiked. _Oh, babe, no need to say it. C'mere. _

Liara sighed in contentment as the warm, muscled weight of Shepard's torso settled comfortably atop her own, the human gently insinuating one leg between her thighs. As Shepard leaned down over her, the chain holding her dog tags and wedding ring slipped from the open neck of her black button-down shirt to dangle between them. Liara raised her left hand, tapping the band of her own ring against Shepard's as she closed her fingers around the chain and drew her bondmate down into a sensuous, scalding kiss.

"Mmm," Shepard moaned softly as Liara buried her fingers in her human's soft, thick hair, pulling her closer. _God, I missed you._

_I can tell._ Liara could feel Rachel's need for her, building, burning. Locking her bondmate's mouth with another kiss, she let her hands roam, running her fingers over the well-defined, sculpted lines of Shepard's shoulders, and down the taut, cabled muscles of her back. Shepard shifted her weight slightly to one side, freeing her right hand from the need to support her, and cupped Liara's left breast again, squeezing gently, and it was Liara's turn to moan at the pleasure of her lover's touch. Breaking the kiss, she stared up into Shepard's rapidly darkening, intense green eyes. "You're wearing far too much, my love," the asari teased. "I want to feel your skin against mine." She used their bond to send a vivid image of just what she wanted Shepard to do to her, skin to skin, and the human shivered.

"Oh, God," Shepard muttered.

"Goddess," Liara corrected slyly.

"Yeah. You are." Shepard grinned and lowered her mouth to Liara's neck, nipping and kissing her way down to Liara's right breast, drawing the nipple gently into her mouth and sucking at it lightly while her right hand drifted down, fingertips trailing playfully over the ridged scars across Liara's abdomen. Shepard hated those scars, she knew, hated the reminder of how close she'd come to losing Liara at the ardat-yakshi monastery, but teasing the sensitive skin surrounding them never failed to provoke Liara's delight, and she shuddered at the human's caress.

"Goddess... " it was Liara's turn to appeal to the heavens as Shepard's deft touch awoke nerves and sensations dulled by four weeks spent away from her bondmate's provocative hands and mouth. Flexing her hips, she rolled them over so that she ended up atop Shepard, sitting astride the human and unbuttoning her shirt. Working quickly, she opened the garment and pulled it apart, baring Shepard's torso, then reached around to unfasten the closure of her bra. Shepard shook her clothes clear, leaned up on her elbows, looking deep into Liara's eyes, then pulled her into another searing kiss, fingers stroking the folds at the back of her neck. Liara felt Rachel's mind open, reached out in joyful rejoinder, and her perceptions tilted, shifting as they blended with her human mate's in an automatic, all-consuming union. Time stopped; individuality became fluid, ephemeral. She felt her own hands ghosting down her body, the echo of her fingers hooking in the thin material of Shepard's underwear and slipping that final garment down the soldier's long, toned legs, and then even that distinctiveness faded. Skin slid against skin, biotic energy sparked and danced, muscles flexed, fingers and lips and tongues caressed and teased and tasted. _Please... please touch me_. Neither lover could identify which of them entered the other, only that the pleasure was overwhelming. _Oh, please... don't stop._

Completion caught them together, and for a long moment afterwards they remained locked together in the bliss of their shared awareness, but eventually, the physical world began to reassert itself. Liara became aware that she had collapsed bonelessly atop her bondmate, pinning Shepard to the bed, her hand still buried between the human's thighs. Rachel was looking up at her with fond amusement. "Quite comfortable?" she enquired, squirming slightly as Liara gently withdrew her fingers from the sheath of her sex.

"Mmm, completely," Liara agreed as Shepard's arms wrapped around her lower back. She folded her own arms across Shepard's chest and rested her chin on her hands. "So what happened on Palaven?"

Shepard grimaced. "There were more of them than we realised, and they were dug in deep. They'd set up a base in a detention centre, and it was fortified to the hilt. James got his ass shot - literally - doing recon, which upped the ante a bit, and in the end we had to dig them out one at a time and it took forever." Shepard's hands drifted sensuously up and down Liara's back as she spoke.

"But James is OK?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Embarrassed, but fine. The others won't be letting him live it down in a hurry. Anyway, it's done with and hopefully that'll be the last of them for a while." Shepard sighed softly. "And besides, I don't really want to talk about work. We're on shore leave, and I'm thinking we have much better ways to pass the time."

"Oh, absolutely." Liara tried for an innocent tone. "There are some wonderful walking trails in the woods to the north, and of course the paths along the cliffs, and the beach - the fresh air and exercise would be invigorating. And the library houses an extensive collection of scholarly works, many of which I'm sure you'd find fascinating."

"There's plenty I find fascinating right here," Shepard countered, eyes sparkling with mirth as she dragged her fingers up Liara's spine to stroke her neck folds. "Much more interesting than some dusty old books. Shall I show you what I mean?"

Liara's breath hitched as her bondmate rolled them so that she was flat on her back with Shepard looming above her possessively. "By all means," she whispered, nerves humming with anticipation as her lover looked her up and down with hungry eyes.

Shepard smiled wickedly, and the image she sent across their shared awareness slipped every catch on Liara's control. Reaching up, she pulled Rachel back into her embrace, body and mind, and passion swept reality away.


	3. Safe Harbour

**Safe Harbour**

_Stormbreaker Bay, Silver Coast, Thessia_

Aethyta grinned an evil little grin as Liara walked into the dining room with Shepard in tow. "Huh. I didn't expect to see you two at all today," she leered. "What's the matter, Shepard, stamina still not what it was?"

Liara cuffed her father reprovingly on the shoulder. "That's none of your business."

"Your mood hasn't improved, I see. Athame's bountiful tits, Shepard, I figured you were better at diving in the azure ocean than that."

Shepard raised her eyebrows, and Liara winced in anticipation. Her human bondmate mightn't always be totally at ease with asari candour about sexual desires and appetites, but for some reason she had no problem coping with Aethyta's tawdry innuendo. Fighting a grin, Shepard responded nonchalantly as she helped herself to a ration of cereal and dried fruit. "I strive to excel, Aethyta, you know that. If something's worth doing, it's worth doing right. It's not a sprint, it's a marathon, so you need to do a proper warm up, and make sure you've got plenty of fuel in your tank." She winked at Liara's father. "We just finished the warm up."

"Goddess, Rachel, please don't encourage her," Liara complained as she picked up her own breakfast.

"_How_ did Benezia raise such a prude?" Aethyta enquired despondently of the ceiling. "Your mother was completely uninhibited in bed, and..."

"_No_, Dad, enough. I don't want to discuss your sex life, or my mother's, any more than I want to discuss mine."

"Ours," Shepard corrected mildly through a mouthful of cereal.

"Whose side are you on?" Liara asked dangerously, and Aethyta roared with laughter.

"Careful now, Shepard - all that meticulous preparation will go begging if you get disqualified before the main event." Still cackling, the matriarch snatched a bread roll from the breakfast bar and beat a retreat.

Shepard chuckled as she patted the seat next to her in invitation. "You know that the more you hold out, the worse she gets, don't you? It's so much easier to just snap at the first bait she offers."

"I know," Liara sighed, "but I've never been good with innuendo. I never got much practice." She took a reflective bite of her breakfast, then offered her bondmate a sly smile. "Till I met you, at any rate."

Shepard smirked back. "What can I say? Corrupting you has been my distinct pleasure," she joked, picking Liara's hand up off the table and pressing a kiss to the back of her fingers.

They ate in comfortable silence, and once they were done, Liara spread her hands in a gesture of enquiry. "Would you like a tour? Since this is your home now too, it seems only right that you should get to know the house a little better."

"Mmm," Shepard agreed distantly, her attention seemingly focused on the far wall. Perplexed, Liara snapped her fingers in front of her bondmate's face.

"Thessia to Commander Shepard, please respond."

"What? Oh," Shepard started, blushing slightly, "sorry, Li."

"You were almost in orbit," Liara chided gently. "Was it a flashback?" Shepard still suffered moments of acute memory, snippets of vivid recall from the war, particularly from her final encounter with the Reapers' controller aboard the Citadel. With medication, counselling, and a good deal of painful sharing of events, the attacks had decreased significantly in frequency and intensity as the months had passed. Thankfully it was now rare for her to experience a waking lapse, though she did sometimes drift off while thinking. The nightmares persisted, but then again, so did Liara's. There was no cure for those but time.

"No," Shepard replied, reaching for Liara's hand reassuringly. "No, nothing like that. I was actually just trying to wrap my head around the idea that I could call a place like this home." Shepard waved a hand at the door to the main reception hall. "I've never had a home bigger than a ship's cabin. Sometimes it was only a foot locker. Having a stationary residence on a planet, that will take a little getting used to. Especially this place. I mean, my God, Li, it's a palace."

Liara smiled bashfully, feeling a blush creep up her neck and across her cheeks. "Stormbreaker is actually quite modest by the standards of our peers," she offered. "House T'Soni was never particularly ostentatious. But compared to the Normandy, or that prefab you briefly owned on Intai'Sei, I agree it is... _rather_ large." Keeping hold of Shepard's hand she pulled her bondmate to her feet and led her out into the hall, feeling a sudden wash of uncertainty. They'd talked about this once, long ago, but at the time they'd barely taken each other as lovers, and the context had been quite different. "Does... all this... bother you, Rachel? I have an obligation to my family to maintain the house and its heritage, but we don't _have_ to make our home here. Aunt Anairia would be happy to continue to manage the family's affairs on my behalf."

Shepard turned to her, leaning in to press a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. "No, Li, it doesn't bother me. It's just... not quite what I expected. Though to be honest, I couldn't tell you what I _did_ expect. I guess I didn't really appreciate that I could come to think of any of this as mine. And as for making a home," Shepard's emerald eyes met Liara's sapphire ones with simple certainty, "wherever you are is home for me."

"Have you been reading those romance novels of Miranda's again?" Liara joked.

"Miranda reads _romance_ novels? How would you even know that?"

"I'm the Shadow Broker. I know everything."

"Liara!"

"Oh, fine, I found one hidden in the bedframe in the XO's office when I was living in there." Liara grinned at her bondmate. "_The Darkest Embrace_. It was, um... educational."

Shepard chuckled and pulled Liara in for a kiss. "I'll just bet it was. You'll have to show me what you learned."

"Mmm," Liara agreed happily into the kiss, then she pulled back and took Shepard's arm. "Come on, let's take a look around. I want to show you what I've been doing."

"Looks to me like you've been trying to help refugees," Shepard remarked as she fell into step. "I saw the tents outside, and Elana told me a little while she was trying not to shoot me." She shrugged as Liara shot her an incredulous look. "Kid has no idea how to hold a shotgun. I asked Shiala to give her some pointers - I hope that's OK?"

"It's more than OK, and infinitely preferable to her accidentally shooting someone," Liara remarked. "Besides which, I'd rather not test your luck any further. Despite Miranda's extensive modifications, I'm reasonably sure you're not shotgun-proof without your armour."

"Probably not," Shepard agreed as they walked across the hall to the main reception room, a grandiose space usually used for formal house gatherings, celebrations and diplomatic summits. Liara had summarily turned it into the ops centre for the camp, piling desks and terminals into the room for the staff and volunteers tasked with handling the day-to-day running of the estate and managing the several hundred souls who had taken refuge in her family's home. Most of the desks were deserted; it was the weekend and people tended to rise a little later, but there was a familiar figure in ornate red commando leathers standing at the main security terminal, watching reports on the situation in other parts of Thessia. At the sound of their footsteps, the last justicar turned and offered a polite half-bow to Liara.

"Good morning, Liara," Samara said politely, a smile warming her severe expression as she recognised Liara's companion. "And to you, Shepard. Blessings of the Goddess be upon you both."

Shepard had stopped dead, gaping at her former crewmate in shock. "Samara?"

"Hello, my friend," Samara replied calmly. "It is very good to see you again."

"You too." Shepard bounded across the room, pulling the justicar into a tight hug, and Liara couldn't help but smile at the way Samara reflexively stiffened at the impertinence before relaxing into the impulsive embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought Falere here, on Liara's invitation," Samara explained. "The supply shipments to Lessus stopped coming, and it was apparent that no one was interested in assisting us. I had intended to take Falere to Armali to seek a formal solution, but Liara contacted me and offered Falere a place to stay here on the estate. There is a summer house near the cliffs, isolated enough from the main estate to be private and secure, but close enough to be in contact in case of trouble." Samara nodded to Liara as she approached to join them. "It is a debt I will never be able to repay."

Liara blushed. "There's no debt, Samara, really. If anything, it's the other way around. Falere's knowledge of growing food and tending the land is a skill set our little community here was sorely lacking. If everyone is to survive we need all the food we can grow and gather, not just for this winter but for the years to come. What Falere can teach us is worth far more than simple shelter. She seems happy to have the company of her students." Liara smiled slyly. "And I won't pretend it isn't helpful to have a justicar around to enforce the law - Shiala does very well, but there's something about the threat of Samara's attention that makes even our most difficult residents think twice about causing trouble."

"I am not averse to being used as motivation," the justicar deadpans. "And since the Code requires that an Ardat-Yakshi visiting the homeworld be supervised by a justicar, it is my sworn duty to remain as long as Falere is here."

"I imagine with interstellar transport being as difficult as it is that this visit could be a long one," Shepard remarked dryly, a poorly controlled grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Samara did not quite smile back as she replied. "Indeed. It would be negligent of me to even think of compelling Falere to travel back to the monastery unless I could guarantee her safety and well-being, as well as the security of the general public."

"And sadly, I do not foresee such widespread improvement in our transport systems for quite some time," Liara sighed.

"That is a great pity," Samara agreed blandly. "But I will take no more of your time for now, my friends. You are too recently reunited for me to wish to intrude at the moment. Shepard, I would enjoy a chance to speak to you further when you have time."

"Of course, Samara. Now that I know where to find you, I look forward to enjoying both your company and counsel."

The justicar inclined her head in farewell and glided away. Shepard watched her for a moment, then turned to Liara. "You're awesome, do you know that?"

"You might have mentioned it from time to time. What in particular makes it comment-worthy now?" Liara laughed, hooking her arm more tightly with Shepard's, warmed by her bondmate's words.

"Finding Falere a safe place to stay, and rigging it so that Samara's code compels her to spend time with her daughter."

"I can't take total credit for that," Liara admitted. "Samara had already figured out that as long as Falere was "visiting" Thessia, she had to be escorted. I just found a way to make the visit indefinite by providing a safe residence. And I wasn't lying - we do need someone with Falere's expertise, or a lot of the people here are going to be very hungry."

"Elana said as much when she escorted me up here," Shepard noted. "Is there anything we can bring in off the Normandy?"

"We shouldn't," Liara said doubtfully. "The major problem is that food is in desperately short supply everywhere - moving more of it here only ends up depriving someone somewhere else. The only real solution is to work towards establishing self-sufficiency as soon as possible."

"I guess," Shepard conceded reluctantly. "Still, I want to be able to help."

Liara took her hand gently. "I know, but everyone here is still much better off than they otherwise would be, and we're improving. For now, that will have to be enough." Liara trailed her fingers over Shepard's palm and up the inside of her arm, tracing the fine white scars left by shrapnel from the explosion on the Citadel that had fired the Crucible. "Besides, everyone here owes you their life - I'd say you've done enough."

Shepard frowned. "That's not the point," she argued, a stubborn line setting her jaw. "No one's keeping score."

"Rachel," Liara sighed patiently, "that's not what I meant."

Shepard's glower persisted for a moment as she fought with herself, then her expression became contrite, her frown relaxing. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Li."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Liara lifted Shepard's hand, dropped a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. "But you can't fix everything. And you have to let people take some responsibility for helping themselves. My father, Shiala, and Samara can handle this, and we should let them." Liara tightened her grip on Shepard's hand and started walking, tugging her bondmate along with her. "Come on, let's go for a walk along the cliffs, get some fresh air and enjoy the view. You _are_ supposed to be on shore leave to relax."

Shepard grinned and threw a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."

_SSV Orizaba, Fifth Fleet, Systems Alliance Navy, Sol System_

Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, Officer Commanding, Second Battle Group, Systems Alliance Navy Fifth Fleet, smiled as she tapped the receive icon on her omni-tool's haptic interface. "Yes, sir?"

"You're going to "sir" me, off duty and calling on your personal comm freak?" Admiral Stephen Hackett complained as his image resolved on the pop-up viewer.

"Can't be too careful," Hannah shrugged. "You assume I was paying attention to which freak the call came in on. Shall I try again? Stephen, what a lovely surprise! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Christ, woman, I think that's actually worse," Hackett grumbled.

"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine this morning - what happened, did give Friedrich give you decaf again?"

"You're hilarious." Hackett was smiling, in spite of his grouchy tone. "No, no decaf. No real coffee either, unfortunately - we're on restricted rations until resupply next week. Listen, I was wondering if you could spare the time to meet me on the Presidium? I'd like to brief you in on your new role, informally, before you meet the CDF command team."

"That's a great idea, Stephen, I'd love to."

"Excellent. I'll meet you at the embassy offices in fifteen minutes?"

"Got it. See you shortly."

"See you. Hackett out."

Hannah shut down the vid pop-up and made her way down to the shuttle deck. She used the short flight to the still-battered Citadel to catch up on her daily sitrep. Since her battle group was about to take up duty as part of the Citadel Defence Force, she was now cleared to receive status reports from the other races, and while she had no doubt the data she received was heavily edited, it was still useful. If only, she reminded herself with a grin, as a cover for the rather more comprehensive data packets she received from her daughter-in-law.

Redacted or not, the sitrep was sobering reading. The war against the Reapers might have been won, but the campaign against their legacy of destruction remained a grinding battle of attrition. Daily casualties might no longer number in the millions, but the open wounds inflicted by the shattered transport networks, broken communications, and wrecked supply lines continued to bleed lives. Moving supplies and materials around the galaxy remained very slow going, and though every day brought improvement, the gaps in distribution were still causing casualties as people went hungry, or succumbed to diseases for want of a timely medical shipment. The governments of all six Council races (the quarians and the krogan having gained seats in recognition of their enormous contribution to the war effort) were doing everything they could, but lacked the manpower, infrastructure, and capital to make swift progress.

Sol had been lucky, in many respects, Hannah thought as she looked out of the viewport at her homeworld hanging beneath the station. While the human politicians liked to tubthump about Earth bearing the brunt of the Reaper attack, Thessia and Palaven had suffered heavier assaults, arguably more catastrophic damage. While the Reapers had spearheaded their campaign with the offensive on human space after annihilating the Batarians, their swift eradication of most of the Systems Alliance's military assets within a few days had, ironically, slowed the pace of their harvest. Without any significant military opposition on Earth, at least until Anderson had marshalled and mobilized his resources, there had been no need for the Reapers to engage in concentrated attacks on the confused and demoralized inhabitants, preferring to round them up to be processed. Palaven's heavily militarized population, with its militia reserves and a gun in every household, had come under far more relentless attack, and Thessia… Thessia had been an object lesson in the use of terror, with the Reapers seemingly more interested in eradicating the asari than harvesting them. Ultimately, however, the differences in lives lost on each world amounted to statistical errors on the total scale of casualties, so it was disingenuous in the extreme to paint Earth as the biggest victim of the Reaper invasion.

The pace of repairs and reconstruction on Earth had also been accelerated. With the Citadel trapped in orbit of Sol along with large numbers of refugees, there had been a concerted effort to re-establish lines of communication out to the other Council homeworlds. The Charon relay had been repaired within two months, but with the Citadel in fragile condition and no one being precisely sure how the Reapers had managed to shift the station in the first place, the centre of galactic government remained in humanity's home system. All of the races were diverting as much resource and supply as could be spared to support it, but the majority of personnel and manufacturing provision still had to come from Earth, and that necessity had provided jobs, supplies, and a fledgling economic structure. There was still a long way to go, but from the reports Hannah was seeing, the populations on Palaven and Thessia were in far more desperate straits, with famine and viral epidemics wreaking havoc on their vulnerable populations.

Not that anyone on Earth would get to hear about that; with the parliamentary elections only a few days away, all anyone could get on the limited comm networks was propaganda and mud-slinging as those who aspired to lead got down and dirty in the fight for the last few votes. It was all very undignified, and Hannah thanked her lucky stars that she wasn't actually being appointed to overall command of the CDF. The fewer politicians she had to cross paths with, of any species, the happier she'd be. One thing was certain, though; if Charles Saracino should be elected, Stephen Hackett was going to need a lot more than a coffee ration to maintain his sunny disposition.

_Stormbreaker Bay, Silver Coast, Thessia_

"Fancy a drink, kid?"

Shepard looked up from the book she was reading. "Sure. Whatever you're having."

Aethyta grunted acknowledgement as she set down a bottle and two tumblers. "Wise choice. Whatcha reading?"

Shepard turned the ancient leather-bound hard copy over carefully in her hands. "Matriarch Azriana's treatise on counterstrike tactics."

"Oh yeah? Brushing up on the family tree? Azriana was a T'Soni," Aethyta explained as she poured the drinks. "Matter of fact, she was the one that established them as a regional power, and built Stormbreaker's original fortress." She chuckled, more to herself than to her daughter-in-law. "Guess I took in more from Nezzie droning on about her pedigree more than I realised."

"It seems like a pretty intimidating family to marry into," Shepard observed wryly. "Every generation has at least one superstar."

"Yeah," Aethyta smiled in reminiscence as she handed Shepard her drink. "When I met Benezia's mother for the first time, which wasn't too long before the old battleaxe died, damn if she didn't rip me to shreds. She'd got it into her head by that time that no one was good enough for her daughter, and she was violently opposed to asari-asari relationships." She shook her head. "She was a real piece of work, that old girl." Favouring Shepard with a wink, Aethyta continued," You're lucky all you had to deal with was me. Mind you," she took a pull from her drink, "you are _considerably_ more respectable than I ever was, and you're not asari, so maybe - _maybe_ \- you might have done a little better."

"Yeah, well," Shepard grinned, "I'm grateful for the easy ride, _Dad_. Though I wouldn't have thought an upstart human soldier who's a magnet for the worst kind of trouble is the sort of person any right-thinking asari wants their kid hooking up with."

"Yeah well, I _was_ hoping you were just a rebellious phase Liara would grow out of, but it's a bit late to be crying over it now," Aethyta bantered back. "Where is she, by the way? Last night of your shore leave, I figured you'd be making the most of that soundproofing."

"Anairia wanted to talk to Li about something to do with the estate," Shepard explained, her smile fading. "Privately." She sighed pensively. "I get the distinct impression she doesn't like me very much. Which is understandable, I guess, after what happened on Noveria." She took a sip of her drink, then a deep breath, clearly plucking up some courage. "Aethyta, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask, yeah," Aethyta returned, trying to keep the mood light.

"What was Benezia really like?" Shepard leaned forward, set the book she was holding carefully on the table. "I don't know all that much. Liara's told me a little, shared some memories, but I think it still hurts her to remember. And I certainly didn't meet the real Benezia in those labs."

Aethyta sat back, contemplating the question. She tried not to dwell on Benezia, but in the last year, connecting with Liara had inevitably stirred up her memories and their attendant emotions. Setting foot in this house again after more than a century had hurt more than she'd ever expected it would, a hurt sharpened by Benezia's absence. Even now, she looked for her bondmate out of the corner of her eye, expected to hear Benezia's laughter floating down the corridor, to smell the floral perfume she'd loved so much. "Benezia... she was a lot like Liara, actually," Aethyta began. "She was smart, compassionate… and Athame's sacred azure, she was beautiful. I was besotted almost from the moment I laid eyes on her. Graceful, elegant, poised, charming, all the things I'd never been, never aspired to." Aethyta smiled wistfully. "When we first met, about ten years before we hooked up, I was detail chief for the Asari Councilor's bodyguard – not Tevos, the dried-up old crone who came before her. Benezia came to the Citadel, representing the Council of Matriarchs for some political summit with the Batarians. She was a consummate diplomat, a gifted negotiator, and she wasn't even a matriarch at the time. She knew it too – and confidence is one hell of an aphrodisiac."

"Yeah," Shepard agreed with a grin, leaning back with raised hands when Aethyta scowled at her. "Hey, you were the one dispensing practical hints and tips. Not my fault that Liara decided to put them into practice."

Aethyta narrowed her eyes at Shepard for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, so, anyway, we got talking, discovered we had a lot of common interests, but very different outlooks. Your classic case of opposites attract, and the attraction was mutual, and magnetic. At first, that first fling we had, those three weeks while she conducted those negotiations, it seemed all just too good to be true." Aethyta snorted. "Course, it _was_ too good to be true, but that didn't become apparent for decades. She left, I carried on working, but we kept in touch, and when I got bored a few years later, I followed her home, swept her off her feet." Aethyta took a long, slow pull from her glass. "She was quite naive when it came to relationships. She was sheltered as a maiden, which seems to be a T'Soni tradition - Anairia was just the same, so's Elana, and you'd know better than most how naive Liara was before you deflowered her, heh." Aethyta grinned as Shepard blushed.

"It wasn't _quite_ that one-sided," the Spectre protested mildly. "In fact, I'm almost certain she started it."

"That's your story," Aethyta chuckled. "Anyway, Benezia hadn't had many relationships when we met - a few turians and a salarian, all political matches her mother had encouraged. She never said she'd been unhappy, but she'd never really known..." Aethyta shook her head, "shit, kid, this is more info than you wanted right?" She sighed. "Ah, hell, I miss her. Nezzie was the best person I ever knew. And she doted on Liara." Aethyta smiled softly at the memory of Benezia holding their newborn daughter as she slept, her smile so luminous it had brought tears to Aethyta's eyes. "There was nothing she wouldn't have done for our girl, nothing. She used to write to me, tell me what Liara was up to, send me pictures. And she kept her promise to me, even though it had to have been the hardest thing she'd ever done, letting Liara go against all of her own instincts. Letting Liara be angry with her, being brave enough, patient enough to wait it out, knowing the kid would come back with time." Aethyta's voice cracked at the last, and she took a deep gulp from her glass to cover it. "She never got the chance. That bastard Saren..." She swallowed, choking back the thick swell of grief trying to force its way up from her chest. "You... you did right by her, kid. I admit when I heard about it at first I was so angry with her, and I hated you, but knowing what I know now..." she looked straight into the human's haunted eyes, projected as much conviction as she could, "you did good, Rachel. I'd like to be able to thank you, but somehow I just can't find it in me. Not yet."

"If there's one moment I wish I had a chance to do over, it's that one. I didn't want to kill her, I shot to wound, but she moved the wrong way," Shepard confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to save her. She'd broken the indoctrination once, and I would have taken a gamble on her doing it again. But I failed, I killed her, and I don't think Anairia can forgive me. I don't expect her to, frankly. I don't expect you to, either. It's a wonder to me that Liara could - I know if it was my mom, I... I don't even want to think about it."

"Well, your mom is pretty damn awesome, so I get that, but listen, kid," Aethyta leaned forward to take Shepard's hands, "I forgave you a while ago. You only shot to protect Liara, and that's what Benezia would have wanted. Don't worry about Anairia. She idolized her sister, but she's spent her whole life, more or less, at this house. The war didn't really touch her, and she has no real way to put what happened to Nezzie into any sort of context." Aethyta looked at her curiously. "Of all the moments of hell you've experienced, that's the one you'd want a do-over for? Not the Crucible?"

"The Crucible has no better outcome, at least not for me," Shepard replied quietly after a long, introspective moment. "I'd do the same again. Be damned again. But Benezia - if we'd saved her, helped her, somehow brought her back - can you imagine a more powerful advocate for what we'd seen? She would have been able to warn her followers, spread the word - the asari might have been more ready. She knew about the beacon on Thessia, and she would have been motivated to reveal it. We could have had the Crucible ready, we might have had time before the Reapers got here to adjust it, target it more tightly so that it wasn't indiscriminate. We could have saved so many more people." She sighed. "That's an abstract, a what-if, I know. But I would also never have orphaned the woman I'd already fallen in love with. I would never have driven a wedge between Liara and her family, albeit unintentionally. I would never have hurt her as deeply as I did." She knocked back the rest of her drink.

Aethyta regarded her daughter's bondmate reflectively. The more she got to know Rachel, really see the person behind the hero, the more she came to appreciate Liara's taste. The human had a surprisingly well-developed emotional intelligence for someone so young, allied to a natural empathy and compassion that made her easy to like and easy to appreciate. "Benezia would have liked you, kid," she said, equally softly. "She would have approved."

"Thanks, Aethyta. That means a lot to me." Shepard set her empty glass down and stood, carefully replacing the ancient book on the shelf from which she'd retrieved it. "And thanks for the drink. I'm gonna go make sure I'm packed, and then have a long, hot bath. God knows it'll be a while before I get the opportunity to enjoy unlimited hot water again."

"Sure kid. I'll see you in the morning before you go. Good night."

Shepard nodded, and slipped out of the room. Aethyta poured herself a fresh glass, waiting, and before she'd set the bottle back down, a soft step heralded a new arrival from the office adjoining the library. "How much of that did you overhear?" Aethyta asked.

"Enough," Shiala said simply. "Enough to know that Liara is beyond fortunate to have found such a bondmate. But then, I have always liked Shepard. She showed me mercy on Feros, and compassion on Illium. She is a being of great heart." She cocked her head to one side. "You like her too. Far more than your blustering facade implies."

"I'm that obvious, am I?" Aethyta chuckled wryly.

"I've known you for a _very_ long time," Shiala smirked. "And Goddess, I hated you when we first met."

"Yeah, that was mutual." Aethyta looked at the commando wryly. "But look at us now."

Shiala smiled, crossed the room to stand before Aethyta's chair, and bent to ghost a kiss against the matriarch's temple. "I worshipped Benezia. She was a hero to me in all things. But I think the greatest mistake she ever made was to drive you away. She was lost without you, and it was a tragedy that her pride never allowed her to admit it."

Aethyta reached up to stroke Shiala's cheek affectionately. Since returning to Thessia and finding that the battered commando had somehow dragged herself home to the family she'd once dedicated her life to protect, their shared past, need for companionship, and their commitment to Liara had brought them close. Close enough to begin sharing their thoughts as well as a bed. It wasn't the grand, high passion she'd enjoyed with Benezia, but it was a warm, comfortable relationship, founded in years of rivalry, respect, and a friendship that had stood the test of a century of separation. "And a tragedy that she never saw how good you would be for her," Aethyta returned as she allowed her lover to pull her to her feet. "You would have grounded her in ways I could never have hoped to."

Shiala chuckled wryly. "Perhaps. But look at us now, indeed, reminiscing together over our lost love."

Aethyta smiled, running her fingers gently up Shiala's nape. "You got a better idea for what we could be doing, Green?"

"Several, actually," Shiala admitted, lacing her long fingers with Aethyta's and leading her from the room.

**oOoOo**

Liara let herself into the bedroom quietly. It was late; Anairia had kept her for hours, as though it would be the only opportunity she ever got to talk to Liara ever again, droning on about Elana, the estate, how proud her mother would be, an endless diatribe of minutiae and trivia that Liara had found it difficult to really focus on, especially after the first hour. Conscious as she was that this was the last night of their time here, she was anxious to get back to Rachel.

She could sense Shepard's melancholy presence, but the human was nowhere to be seen. A gentle breeze drifted in from the open balcony door, the faint warmth of the day still lingering pleasantly. "Rachel?"

"Out here, Li," the reply floated in on the drifting current of air. Liara smiled, and moved to the door to find Shepard sitting on the balustrade in her sleep t-shirt and shorts, looking out over the bay as the moon peeked over the distant horizon, staining the water with silver. Stepping up behind her bondmate, Liara wrapped her arms around the human's waist, and dropped her chin on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

Rachel turned her head slightly, brushing her lips against Liara's cheek. "Sure. Just enjoying the peace. The view is so tranquil."

"You should see it when it's stormy," Liara noted. "The waves can be dozens of metres high, and they batter off the cliffs like a hammer on an anvil. The noise is incredible. The bay comes by its name honestly." She squeezed Rachel lightly. "You sound wistful, love, and I can sense something bothering you. What is it?"

Rachel was silent for a moment, then sighed quietly. "Just wondering what might have been, is all. Nothing you need to worry about." She leaned back into Liara's embrace. "Hold me?"

Liara tightened her grip, pressing a kiss to the back of her bondmate's head, breathing in the scent of her hair as they watched the moon begin to rise from beyond the ocean in comfortable silence. "This is nice," she murmured after a while. "We never really get time to do much of this, do we?"

"What, nothing?" Shepard asked, a teasing smile in her tone.

"Mmm."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to complain about the manner in which we customarily spend our private time," Shepard remarked, twisting to deposit a kiss just under Liara's jaw. "And if you want to take this indoors..."

Liara smiled gently. "I'm not in any rush. I cherish the quiet moments we have together, each small pond of calm. For all that I enjoy making love with you," she slid one hand up to cup Shepard's left breast and squeezed gently, "I also love just being able to spend time with you. Like this. No cares, no responsibilities. Most couples would take this for granted, but I never dare to." _I am too aware of how quickly such idylls can be torn away._

Shepard lifted her hand to cover Liara's. "Nor me." She tipped her head back against Liara's shoulder, reassuring the asari without words that she was content with things as they were, that she too appreciated the opportunity to enjoy the peace.

They watched the moon rise, inching its way into the sapphire-dark sky, and it was not until the pale orb was well above the horizon that Shepard broke the comfortable silence. "It's been a good week. I've started to feel at home around the house," she chuckled wryly, "now that I can navigate successfully from the bedroom to the bathroom and the kitchen, that is."

"Getting the essentials down, I see," Liara teased.

"Basic survival strategy - secure food, water, and shelter. Everything else follows on from that."

Liara laughed. "Jarhead," she accused fondly.

"You know it." Shepard sat forward, breaking the embrace, stretched, and swung around to face Liara. "So, are you ready to get back to work?"

Liara shook her head as she took Shepard's hand and tugged her toward the doors. "Not quite yet. We've got one night of leave left to enjoy, and I intend to make the most of it."


	4. All I Ask is a Tall Ship

**All I Ask is a Tall Ship**

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Standard Orbit, Thessia_

_"Logged. The Commanding Officer is aboard. Commander Shepard has the deck. Welcome back, Shepard."_

"Thanks, EDI." Shepard breathed a sigh of contentment as she stepped aboard the Normandy. _Home_, her senses informed her, a feeling of immense peace spreading through her as she made her way down the bridge toward the CIC.

That peace lasted approximately ten seconds.

"Shep?"

Miranda Lawson, genetic masterpiece, troubleshooting space diva, Council Spectre, and the Normandy's executive officer was heading across from the war room door to intercept her, frowning and brandishing a datapad. "We've got a problem."

"Hey, Miri, nice to see you too. Yeah, I had a great break, thanks for asking. So how are things here?" Shepard rejoined sarcastically.

Miranda rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Glad you had a nice holiday while some of us were holding the fort," she riposted, undeterred by the commander's tone. "But regrettably, playtime's over."

"Way to spoil my mood," Shepard muttered, pitched for the XO's ears alone. "War room?"

Miranda nodded curtly, and Shepard, attuned now to the tension in her friend's posture, followed the elegant brunette to the holo-display in the Normandy's tactical nerve centre. "What's up?" she asked crisply, levity buttoned up behind her professional demeanour.

"We've got another one," Miranda replied solemnly.

"Aw, crap."

"Rumours started surfacing about four days ago; Feron's been keeping me in the loop." Miranda cocked her head to one side, tossing the datapad to Shepard. "I didn't want to ruin your leave, but if you hadn't been coming back today anyway I would have pinged you."

Shepard fielded the pad and glanced over it. "Tuchanka? Fantastic. Fighting krogan is always such an exhilarating way to uphold galactic peace and justice. And that's without even considering the added zest of potential surprise thresher maw."

"From what Feron's report says, it looks like a rogue group who'd taken off into the wastes to live their own way rather than submit to Wrex's reforms." Miranda arched her eyebrows. "So, add the compulsion to an already healthy dislike, throw in a location in which added thresher maw is a distinct risk, shake vigorously over cracked ice, and you have quite the Molotov cocktail."

"You're not making me feel any better, Miri, y'know?" Shepard frowned thoughtfully. "I didn't think that many Reapers went down groundside on Tuchanka. Odds on this being a coincidence?"

"Not very good," Miranda replied, absently rubbing at the scar that slanted across her nose and left cheek as she considered the question. "If I had to bet on how this happened, I'd say they went looking for salvage, hoping to find something they could use. Whether to improve their camp or with the intent of causing trouble, well, that's largely immaterial now."

"Agreed. Anything else I need to know right now?"

"No. My weekly report's on your desk for review but it's been very quiet. Adams has done a full maintenance work-up, Beauchene has run a few emergency evac tests, Cal has been busy bartering and scrounging, and Vega and Cailian between them have drilled the ground team practically to death. As far as I'm concerned, everything's five-by."

Shepard nodded. If Miranda was satisfied, chances were everything was running at better than simply good enough. "Great. I'll read your report, and let you know if I have any concerns. For now, can you start departure protocols to get us under way for Tuchanka, and let Cal and Steve know we'll need full environment shielding on everyone's gear for the next shore party, please? I'll brief Liara in, though I'm sure she'll talk to Feron, I'll check in with the crew, and then I need to let Wrex and Bakara know about this."

"Will do, Shep."

"Thanks, Miri." Miranda nodded a farewell and left Shepard alone with her thoughts. Ever since the Reapers' destruction, council sanctioned clean-up crews had been diligently working to destroy any Reaper remnants they could find. Valuable though it potentially was for advancing current tech levels, the danger of indoctrination was too great a risk to be countenanced. However, not everyone had got the memo. There was a thriving black-market trade in Reaper debris, and too many holes in communications, transport, and personnel to police it effectively. And inevitably, those who acquired enough of the tech succumbed to indoctrination, seized with a mindless compulsion to harvest, turning upon whoever was the closest target. The Normandy's crew had seen it far too often in the months since the Crucible had fired, usually called in to deal with the most extreme cases. Their most recent mission to Palaven had been the same sort of exercise.

The doors of the war room hissed open to admit Liara, and the sight of the asari was enough to halt the downdraft of Shepard's mood. "Hey, Li. Sorry, am I in your way?"

"Not at all. Unless you need privacy for communications - I can work remotely from our cabin?" Liara offered. With the addition of new crew and the formalising of their relationship, Liara having a separate cabin was a luxury they didn't need and couldn't afford, so the Broker's equipment had been moved wholesale into the war room to allow Liara to co-ordinate her information network with her role as the Normandy's operations and intelligence officer. Shepard had considered simply leaving Liara in her wartime post as XO, but the asari had not been in favour. _"I'm not suited to warship command," _she'd pointed out. "_Garrus was far more your XO than I was, really, in terms of commanding the ship. My strengths are intelligence and analysis. If you appoint someone else as your executive, that leaves me free to concentrate on what I do best. And besides, it's better, given our relationship, that the XO is seen to be independent. Someone who'll not be seen as wrapped around your finger, someone who could never be accused of not being able to stand up to you." _

_"You stand up to me plenty."_

_"Don't be difficult, Rachel, it's not what it is, it's what it looks like. You know I'm right, and what's more, I think you already know who you'd like to ask."_

"Rachel?" Liara's voice broke into her thoughts. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Li, sorry, I just drifted for a moment. You can work here, it's fine. I'm going to make my rounds, then I need to make a few calls from the QEC. We've got a new case of indoctrination. On Tuchanka."

Liara nodded. "Miranda mentioned it as I was coming in. I need to get a more detailed report from the network. I'll speak to Feron." She shivered. "Indoctrinated krogan. This is not going to be easy."

"You have a talent for understatement, babe," Shepard agreed with a faint smile. "Let me know what you dig up. I'll be back in half an hour or so, and we can go over the intel before I call Wrex."

"All right," Liara agreed, firing up her omni-tool. "Glyph?"

"Yes, Dr. T'Soni?"

"Let's get to work."

Shepard left Liara to it, and took the elevator down to the crew deck, her first port of call the medical bay. Karin Chakwas was sitting at her desk, attention focused on a particularly graphic haptic display of some sort of internal organ. "Ugh. That's not mine, is it, Doc?"

Chakwas looked up and over her shoulder with a smile. "If it was I'd be worried, Commander, because it isn't terribly healthy. To say nothing of not being human."

"What is it?" Shepard asked semi-reluctantly.

"It's the turian equivalent of a kidney," Chakwas replied. "I'm working up an autopsy report on the indoctrination victim I asked you to bring back from Palaven."

Shepard frowned curiously. "I thought you only needed to determine cause of death?"

"Usually, yes," Chakwas agreed. "I am supposed to submit a cause of death report on any casualty associated with our operations, as you know, for auditing purposes. The Reaper War made that unfeasible for many reasons, but now that we're back to dealing with more law-enforcement style operations and Council citizens, it's good to be in the habit. Normally, I don't need to do full autopsy procedures, as cause of death is almost always apparent from visual inspection or scan data from the shore party's omni-tools, but in these indoctrination cases I thought it might be beneficial. Anything we can learn about the biochemical processes and pathways by which indoctrination acts will be useful."

"You're looking for a cure?" Shepard asked as comprehension struck. Chakwas shrugged, blushing slightly.

"Would that be so bad? There must be many thousands, perhaps millions of people out there who have been influenced by Reaper control to some degree. People vulnerable to the compulsion, who will carry that risk for the rest of their lives. If we could discern the means to unlock it..."

"That would be great, Karin," Shepard reassured her CMO, giving the older woman's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "So far, killing people has been the only solution, and that's not satisfactory, not when there are so many we could potentially save."

"Still looking out for the entire galaxy, eh, Shepard?" Chakwas chuckled.

"I can't help myself, it seems," Shepard agreed ruefully.

"Well, you wouldn't be you, otherwise," the doctor noted wryly. "Still, it's nice to see you being able to take the opportunity to relax from time to time. And married life definitely seems to be agreeing with you."

Shepard smiled. "You'll get no argument from me there, Doc. So, we're about to head to Tuchanka. I'll call a briefing in a few hours, but you'll likely get to expand your database of indoctrination autopsies, unfortunately."

Chakwas winced. "Krogan?"

"Looks that way."

"Ideas on your ground team?"

"Liara, Cailian, Oraka, and a couple of our marines. Going up against berserk krogan, I'm going to need a fair bit of biotic and physical brawn."

"Mmm. Oh, and speaking of brawn, I haven't cleared Lieutenant Vega for active duty as yet," Chakwas noted. "Just in case he tries to volunteer. In any case, I'll prepare anti-rad medications for the team, and custom dose some medi-gel for Tuchanka biohazards. I'll also want you to take anti-histamine shots before you go - your suit telemetry from previous ground missions indicates you're allergic to something down there."

"Probably the thresher maw spit," Shepard joked, grinning as Chakwas scowled at her. "Understood, I'll report to you, what, thirty minutes before go?"

"Yes, that'll be fine. Thank you, Commander."

"Catch you later, Doc."

Next stop on Shepard's round was the cargo deck, where she found her three senior ground combat specialists in Jimmy's, as someone had christened the makeshift gym Vega maintained. The man himself was supervising, arms folded across his massive chest as he spotted for the tall asari doing bench presses. "Easy," he was advising, "don't try to go too far too soon. Keep your thumbs wrapped round the front. You drop that sucker, Doc's gonna have a jigsaw to do with your ribs."

A grunt of effort was his only response as the indigo-skinned alien smoothly pushed the bar into the air. Shepard nodded a greeting to Vega, and he flipped her a lazy salute with two fingers. "Hey, Lola."

"James. So, can Cailian bench more than you yet?"

"Please," Vega scoffed. "The day ain't dawned where any broad, even a blue one, can out lift James Vega."

"Another two months, I reckon," the asari huffed, setting the bar back in its rests with a clank and sitting up. Vega handed her a towel and she mopped the sweat off her face. "Then Mr. Muscles here will be forced to eat those poorly chosen words."

"We'll see about that," Vega chuckled, then he scowled as his attention was caught by the activity going on behind Shepard. "Hey, Caius, watch it, man, you got way too much slice on that haymaker - the bag ain't supposed to twirl like a ballerina."

The turian male working the heavy bag frowned. "I've got no idea what you're talking about, Jimmy," he complained, and Vega laughed as he made his way over, cracking his knuckles.

"Step aside, Scopes, and let me show you how it's done."

Shepard shook her head in amusement at the predictably macho posturing, then turned back to the asari, who was getting to her feet. Lieutenant Cailian Taeris, Spectre candidate, former Serrice Guard, and bona fide asari commando had been one of Shepard's first picks for her new team, based on recommendations from Shiala and Lidanya. Both of them knew soldiers and soldiering from centuries of experience, and Cailian's name had topped both their lists of suggestions. Shepard had seen the commando in action for herself when the Normandy had made pickup on the Guard just after the fall of Thessia, and she had been very impressed. Taller than the commander by a good five inches and heavily built by asari standards, Cailian had a long fuse on her temper, a sunny disposition, and an easy-going sense of humour that belied an attention to detail that missed nothing, a combat brain like a tactical VI, and a devastating set of close quarters combat specialization biotics that made her only marginally less dangerous than a tornado to get close to. Shepard proffered a water bottle from Vega's workstation, and the asari nodded her thanks, taking a long pull, humour dancing in her gunmetal grey eyes. "Thanks. And for the intervention. I was getting worried I might choke on all the offended manliness in the atmosphere."

Shepard chuckled. "Don't mind Vega. Comparative biology's not his strong suit. Liara's bounced him around biotically once or twice to remind him of his manners, so don't feel you'll be breaking new ground if you need to smack him down some."

Cailian grinned in response, the expression putting wrinkles in the brilliant vermilion stripes slanting diagonally down her cheeks. "Think I'll save it for the next dance night, give the crowd a show. So, you enjoy your leave, boss?"

"There wasn't enough of it, but yeah, I did. Did you get groundside?"

"For two days. Caught up with my old unit in Armali. Good times." Cailian took another pull from the bottle. "Did I feel the drives kicking in a few minutes ago?"

"Yeah. Break's over. We have reports coming in of an indoctrination case on Tuchanka. We're en route to check it out."

Cailian grinned. "Sounds like a fun excursion. Can I volunteer?"

"By some monumental coincidence I'd already volunteered you," Shepard deadpanned. "Report to the war room in one hour for the pre-op briefing."

Cailian nodded cheerfully. "I'll be ready, Shepard."

"Thanks, Cailian." Shepard clapped the asari on the shoulder and stepped over to the workout bag. "Caius?"

Caius Oraka, the youngest nephew of the noted General Septimus, let the punch bag come to rest against his raised fists, then stepped back, straightening into a precise parade rest. "Commander, how may I be of service?"

Shepard bit back a sarcastic comment. Caius had dark blue clan markings that gave him a strong physical resemblance to Garrus, but he was far more rigid and formal in his demeanour than her best friend had ever been able to manage. Much more of a proper turian, Garrus had remarked upon meeting Oraka not long after his appointment to the Normandy, and though Shepard couldn't fault his skills or attitude, she often caught herself making assumptions about him based on her relationship with Garrus. She was adjusting, but it was taking time. Not having Garrus around felt a lot like she imagined a missing limb would; unbalancing, frustrating, and itchy, but she understood his desire to be spending any time he could with Tali. "We're headed for Tuchanka to investigate a new report of indoctrination. I'd like you on the ground team for the mission. We'll do the pre-op brief in one hour in the war room."

Caius nodded crisply. "I'll be there, Commander. With your permission?"

"Carry on, Lieutenant," Shepard allowed, and the turian Spectre candidate dipped his head in a respectful nod, then moved away, heading for the elevator.

"Stiff-assed bastard," James chuckled as he ambled around from where he had been bracing the bag. "So, you, ah, need me down there too, Lola?"

Shepard grinned. "Nice try, Vega. Next you'll be telling me Chakwas cleared you for action, right?"

Vega did his best to give her the puppy-dog eyes. "Aw come, on, boss, I'm fine. It was a flesh wound."

"Just a little pat on the cheek, huh?" Shepard chuckled, and Vega blushed. "Sorry, James, not your call to make. Nor mine for that matter. You're grounded until the Doc tells me otherwise. But I need two of your team for back-up to the primary squad."

James pouted theatrically, then sighed in surrender. "Westmoreland and Takagi are on call."

"Great. Have them report to the war room in one hour. You can tag along, I'd like to get your tactical input even if you can't be boots on the ground."

"You got it, Lola," Vega sighed.

"Thanks, James." Shepard flipped him a salute, he flipped her the bird, and they parted company with a shared grin.

Cortez was off duty, so Shepard's penultimate stop was the engine room, where, as she had come to expect, there was a soothing sense of ordered calm. Lieutenant Commander Adams waved her over as soon as he saw her. "Commander, welcome back. I took a look at that emitter for Liara, like you asked. It was in pretty bad shape, but Daniels and Dak managed to MacGyver a workaround with some non-standard parts, so it should be more reliable. Long-term, it'll need replaced, but it'll keep them in touch with the rest of Thessia for now."

"Thanks, Greg. You too, Gabby." Shepard bumped fists with the recently promoted Lieutenant Daniels as she walked up to join them. "With so many people at the house, it's critical that they're able to call for help if they need it."

"Yeah, it's quite an operation Liara's got going down there," Gabby observed. "Not that I'm surprised – your wife never does anything by half, Skipper."

"Very true, LT, very true," Shepard agreed contentedly. "Where are Donnelly and Dak, by the way?"

Adams jerked his thumb toward the doors. "Down in the bilges looking at the new venting conduits - we're all keen to be sure they work properly."

"Yeah, it'd be nice to know that one mistake isn't going to barbecue you guys," Shepard chuckled.

"Right. Ain't no one got more skin in _that_ game than us," Daniels grinned.

"OK, I guess I'll catch up with them later. We've got new orders, so we'll be shipping out shortly."

"We're ready whenever you are, Shepard," Adams promised.

"I never doubt that, Greg. Catch you guys later."

Returning to the CIC, Shepard took a deep breath before walking the length of the bridge to the cockpit. "How we doing, Joker?"

"We're five-by." Joker did not turn his seat, focusing on the interfaces in front of him. Ever since Shepard had confessed the choice she'd made on the Citadel to him, their relationship had been strained. He blamed her for the damage done to EDI, and hadn't been shy about letting her know. Since his opinion more or less coincided with her own, she found it difficult if not impossible to marshal an argument in her own defence. Most of the time he managed to be civil, reining back his anger in order to remain with the ship and EDI, but he did not speak to Shepard beyond acknowledging orders or answering direct questions.

"Good afternoon, Shepard," EDI offered brightly into the thickening silence. The AI herself held no grudge, having considered Shepard's choice with the cool, rational logic of a machine-based lifeform_. "I would have made the same decision," she had said. "Mathematically speaking, it presented the greatest gain for the lowest cost, and your rationale for not selecting the other options is sound. There is no need for you to feel responsible for my loss of function, Shepard - it was a price worth paying to secure the defeat of the Reapers."_

"How you doing, EDI?"

"Very well. I have used our time in orbit of Thessia to recalibrate our main sensor array, run ship-wide system diagnostics, and do some research into topics of academic interest."

"Those being?"

"Principally aspects of asari culture, society, and history. Our proximity to Thessia permits me interface directly with numerous databases not readily available through the extranet."

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "You've been hacking asari state secrets?"

"Yes." EDI's voice was tinged with what sounded like satisfaction. "The encryptions were somewhat challenging - some of them took more than one minute to crack. I have added relevant data to my memory banks, and made the resources available to Liara."

Shepard chuckled. "Well, officially I can't say I approve, but... good skills. Just out of curiosity, can you crack Liara's encryptions?"

"Not in any meaningful sense. Liara uses a hybridised quadruple-base encryption algorithm, in which any given encryption may be a blend of Prothean, Reaper, Geth, or Asari characters. The unpredictability of the character set coupled with the use of varying mathematical bases for the algorithms ensures the number of variables is simply too great to control. I could hack one message, but that would not enable me to apply the hack to another message. And she changes the combination of languages and mathematical bases in an irregular pattern." EDI paused. "Your bondmate takes few chances with security, Shepard."

"That's a polite way of calling her paranoid," Shepard chuckled. "OK, anything else you think I need to know before we leave?"

"Nothing pressing, Commander."

"Then I guess we're good to go. Joker, let's hit the relay."

"Yes, ma'am," the pilot replied coolly. Aware that she would get nothing further from him, Shepard turned and made her way back down the bridge toward the war room, already mulling over strategies and potential plans. _Game time_.


	5. One Giant Death Trap

**One Giant Death Trap **

_The Hollows, Kelphic Valley, Tuchanka_

"Shepard! Hah, Shepaaaaaard!"

Urdnot Wrex, Chief of Clan Chiefs and Warlord of Tuchanka, roared an ebullient greeting as the Spectre led her shore party into the Hollows. "Get your scrawny ass up here!"

Shepard grinned as she picked up her pace and jogged up the central steps to the dais. Wrex had transported his stone throne from the Urdnot camp, and was rising from the massive chair with a huge, savage grin splitting his face. He engulfed her in a rough hug, ruffling her hair affectionately. "You look better," he rumbled. "Still too squishy, but I don't suppose you're ever going to get over that."

"Probably not," Shepard agreed cheerfully. "How've you been, Wrex, you magnificent bastard?"

"Busy," Wrex leered, grinning salaciously. "Day and night, there's always something – or someone – that requires my personal attention."

Shepard nodded sagely. "It's tough being you, huh?"

"You said it," Wrex chuckled.

"They keeping you adequately supplied with ice?"

Wrex roared with laughter and slapped Shepard on the back, staggering her forward a good two paces. "Don't need it anymore. Ha... turns out that if you push through the pain barrier, you toughen right up."

"Oh, God, that's information I _really_ didn't need," Shepard groaned, failing to stifle the snort of laughter that bubbled up from her chest. Wrex grinned at her then transferred his attention to a new target.

"Liara! Good to see you too," he rumbled. "Shepard knocked you up yet?"

Liara blushed. "No, Wrex. I'm not old enough yet for that to be a possibility."

"Ah, that's too bad. Still, as long as it's not from lack of trying," the krogan leered.

"Oh no, not at all," Liara assured him with a grimly determined expression. "We're having _lots_ of sex."

"Liara!" Shepard protested in a pained tone. "He doesn't need to know that."

Wrex snorted gleefully. "I could tell anyway, Shepard. You absolutely reek of Liara." He settled back into his chair with a rumbling chuckle. "All right, I can mortify you both some more later. You said you had an indoctrination problem?"

"Yeah, we got a report through Liara's network," Shepard explained. "Some scouts from Clan Gatatog were clearing an abandoned industrial complex when they found some Reaper debris that had been dragged in from some battle site. A second patrol found one of the scouts four days later, out of his mind, screaming about the need to bow down before the harvest. They got some of the story out of him before he shot himself, then they went to check it and got fired upon by the rest of the original team. The network picked it up when they called it in."

Wrex nodded. "I remember the incident. I ordered everyone to stay clear, and I knew it was a bigger problem than normal when you contacted me just afterward. I'm happy to let you do your Council thing - Bakara told me not to interfere - but do me a favour and watch your ass out there, will you, Shepard? I don't need the Saviour of the Galaxy getting dead on my turf. It'll look bad on my resume."

"I'll try to keep your heartwarming concern for my welfare in mind, brother mine," Shepard retorted.

"Hah, good! You need anything?"

"Transport and a guide would be appreciated. Once we've scouted it, if I think we don't have sufficient firepower I might come back to you for backup."

"That's fine. Help yourself to a Tomkah. Grunt will go with you. The whelp could do with a good fight. Come to think of it, I could do with a good fight," he huffed a sigh, "but if Bakara hears that I dropped everything to go gallivanting around the wastes with you, she'll come back home and carve me into itty bitty pieces."

"Warlord of Tuchanka, huh?" Shepard grinned, striking a heroic statue pose.

Wrex rolled his eyes as Liara burst out laughing. "Females," he growled. "Go on, get outta here, Shepard. And, oh... yeah... bring me their heads!"

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Standard Orbit, Tuchanka_

Miranda Lawson paced a slow orbit of the CIC, checking in on the crew station by station, partly to keep herself occupied, partly to make sure they were all clear on their tasks. About half the crew were Alliance, nearly all Normandy veterans of the Reaper War or even the fight with Saren. Shepard had taken full advantage of Hackett's largesse, and although she'd had a couple of people pressed upon her by political necessity, by and large she'd got to make her own choices. The rest of the crew were a mix of aliens, principally turians, asari and salarians, supplemented by one quarian, one drell, and one volus. Representatives for the surviving elcor community had complained vociferously about their lack of representation, but the fact was that the Normandy, being a small ship, simply could not be outfitted to accommodate their physiological needs. And no one had heard from the hanar for months. Kahje was unapproachable thanks to its defence network, and attempts to establish communication were proving futile. As time passed, less and less hope was being held out that there was anyone left on the planet to contact.

Lieutenant Armand Beauchene nodded to her comfortably as she reached his station. "Everything's five-by, ma'am," he reported pre-emptively. "Weapons systems green across the board. Even without Mr. Vakarian to keep an eye on things, we're looking good."

Miranda offered a nod of acknowledgement. "Thanks, LT. I'd think by now the guns have been calibrated so much that they'll never need to be touched again."

"Yes, ma'am," Beauchene grinned. "Y'know, it's too bad Garrus isn't with us. And Tali. I'm getting used to it, but I still look for the old crew out of the corner of my eye." His smile faded into a thoughtful look, and Miranda could guess at his thoughts.

"I can sympathize. I keep expecting to see Mordin Solus or Jacob Taylor walking through the CIC."

"I see Lieutenant Pressly, and Flash-bang," Beauchene returned the confidence. "I was an entry level O-1, and Flash-bang... uh, Lieutenant Grenado, was my line officer, and Pressly was the XO. I worked CIC with them both, saw them way more than Shepard or any of the ground team guys. But, as time passed and we got to know each other... we had some good times." He rubbed his hand across his chin. "Heh, hard to believe _that_ was my first tour. What a way to start your career, huh?"

Miranda nodded. "I'll say. Anyway, I'll let you work."

"Ma'am."

Miranda's impromptu station tour threw up no issues, and she soon found herself back at the galaxy map with only her thoughts for company. So far, three months into the Normandy's first tour as a Council vessel, things were working well. There were still a few open positions, ones that Shepard had deliberately kept vacant for specific people who were not yet available, but the ship's complement was more or less complete. Some of the appointed Alliance crew had initially been a little snotty about being placed under the command of aliens (on a human ship - God, if Miranda had a credit for every time she'd heard _that_ one...) and non-military personnel, but mostly people had settled quickly and willingly, and after a tense few weeks of getting to know one another, a few public reprimands, and one regrettable formal disciplinary, team cohesion had started to come together.

Led by example, of course: Shepard had taken the time to get to know each and every crew member, working her usual magic, open and friendly for the most part (playing good cop to Miranda's bad cop) but brooking no contravention of her personal stance on discipline or racism. Back when Miranda had first met her, she'd been convinced that the Commander's friendliness was an act, a calculated angle that Shepard worked to get results, much in the same way as Miranda exaggerated her ice queen persona, but she'd slowly learned otherwise over the course of the Collector mission and its aftermath. And now, she was one of the hallowed few who enjoyed Shepard's unconditional trust and confidence, and Shepard was one of the even smaller number of people Miranda felt able to rely on, a pool of precisely four people including herself.

_"Hey, Miri. Good to see you. Thanks for coming." Shepard was sitting on the end of the jetty that ran out into the bright aquamarine lake from the house she and Liara had retreated to upon her discharge from hospital a month previous. The Spectre had taken leave, but she still needed monitoring for her medical condition. Chakwas had done a couple of house visits up to now, but Shepard had called yesterday to invite Miranda over, saying she had something she wanted to discuss, and Miranda had suggested that they might as well kill two birds with one stone._

_"My pleasure," Miranda replied to Shepard's greeting, waving a hand at the surroundings. "This place is beautiful." She sat down next to where the Spectre, clad in a faded red t-shirt and washed-out denim cutoff shorts, was idly dangling her bare feet in the water. "How's the water?"_

_"Chilly," Shepard admitted, "but it's invigorating. I've been swimming every day, like we discussed. It's helping. I don't tire quite as easily, and my stamina's better."_

_"Good." Miranda ran a critical eye over her friend's appearance. Shepard had regained some muscle tone and weight, and the fresh air and sunshine had done wonders for her complexion and colouring, scrubbing the hospital pallor and crippling fatigue from her features. She already looked better than she had even before her fateful final trip to the Citadel. "You're looking a lot better, but Karin sent me with a shopping list of checks and tests."_

_"I'll bet," Shepard chuckled. "Man, you should have heard the lecture she gave Liara for giving in to me and letting me eat a cheeseburger last week." _

_"I can imagine. Where is Liara?"_

_Shepard flapped a hand at the house. "Sleeping, I think. She was up all night working - my tendency to crash for twelve hours at about twenty-one hundred is not exactly exciting for her. I found her passed out at the kitchen table when I came down this morning, so I put her to bed. We can wake her up in a while."_

_Miranda reached down to slip off her shoes and socks, rolled her slacks up to the knee and gingerly dipped a toe in the water. "Oh! You call this invigorating? Bloody freezing, more like." Gritting her teeth, she lowered both feet in as Shepard chuckled._

_"Don't be such a baby. You're not the one who has to jump in there every morning on doctor's orders." Shepard bumped her shoulder gently to rob the comment of any accusation. "So, how about we take care of business first, then we can relax and enjoy the day?"_

_"Sounds good. Let's talk, unless you want to go into the house and do the medical assessment first."_

_"Nah. Forgive me if I'm in no rush to get to that just yet." Shepard stirred the water with one foot. "I was wondering if you'd given any more thought to what you're going to do next? I mean, I know we talked about it a bit before, but I guess your current position is rapidly approaching its expiry date."_

_Miranda nodded. "Yeah. Hackett and Karin have been covering for me, but eventually the truth is going to come out, and then I'm going to have a big problem. I should probably have moved on as soon as you were discharged, but..."_

_Shepard waited for a moment, the prodded, "But what?"_

_"But you asked me not to, remember?"_

_"__I do." Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "Was that the only reason?" _

_"__No. I… I wanted to be sure you were all right," Miranda blurted out, blushing as she studied the surface of the lake._

_Shepard chuckled softly. "Was that so hard to admit?"_

_"Yes, it bloody well was. I'm not you, Shep, I don't have a natural affinity for emotions and relationships."_

_"You're better at it than you think, when you relax and forget to be "Miss Lawson"." Shepard smiled encouragingly. "And I'm grateful that you care. Anyway, I'm on the mend, I'm due to resume restricted duty next week, and so the need for you to be my stupendously overqualified nursemaid is rapidly diminishing. So what's next?"_

_"I still haven't got a clue, and before you say it, no, I don't find it the least bit liberating. I don't like uncertainty." Miranda sighed, kicking her feet idly in the water. "I'd like to be able to keep an eye on Oriana - she's keen to take over the family business, put the Lawson empire to work in the rebuilding. My status as a wanted criminal means I can't do it, even if I'd like to. But I don't want spend my life in hiding in the Terminus and totally out of touch either." She sighed. "Though I do realize that hovering over Ori wouldn't be healthy for either of us. She's too much like me, she'd resent the oversight."_

_"Hmm." Shepard pulled an exaggeratedly thoughtful face. "So you need something that means you can't be arrested and prosecuted, lets you keep tabs on Ori, but otherwise keeps you gainfully employed and at a healthy distance?"_

_"And mentally challenged," Miranda added dryly. Might as well wish for the stars while Shepard was taking the piss. "I don't want to be bored. Oh, and if there's a chance I could get to hook up with the man or woman of my dreams, that would be nice. And I'd like a comfortable living space, and access to all the latest intelligence and research. And vacation time now and again to be able to celebrate being a troubleshooting space diva. Preferably without any incidents involving fish tanks." _

_"Picky, picky," Shepard mocked._

_"Perfectionist," Miranda corrected loftily. "Get to the point already, will you, Shep?"_

_"Come work for me," Shepard invited bluntly. "I need an executive officer."_

_Miranda felt her mouth drop open as shock washed through her. She stared at her friend in disbelief, then frowned. "If that's your idea of a joke..."_

_"No joke," Shepard cut her off. "Part of the agreement I have with the Council is the right to handpick my crew, as far as possible. I will have to make some concessions, but the right to select my senior officers was one I wouldn't budge on. I want you as my XO. I'm also allowed to appoint two new Spectres, subject to agreement from a board of my peers - namely Ash and Jondam. If you accept, you'd be one of them. Liara's already confirmed as the other."_

_Miranda gaped at her. That would certainly solve her problems, but... "A Spectre? Me?"_

_"Can you think of a better candidate? Your operation to infiltrate Cerberus and uncover Sanctuary was as slick a solo op as I've ever seen. _You_ got the evidence we needed to destroy Cerberus, not me, remember? This isn't a pity exercise, Miri, I wouldn't insult you. You're good enough, on your own merits, to be a Spectre candidate. Hackett will back me with the Alliance – he knows how much you've accomplished. And there isn't anyone I'd rather have as my second in command."_

_"Not even Liara?"_

_Shepard grimaced wryly. "I admit, I asked her first, but she turned me down flat. And she was right to. Her best skills are analysis, research, interpretation, and ripping enemies to shreds with dark energy. She can lead, but she doesn't like to, and frankly, to get the best out of this opportunity I need her to be managing her network rather than the ship." Shepard met Miranda's gaze squarely. "She'd do a good job as my XO. You would do a great one."_

_Miranda blushed, touched by the confidence and trust in Shepard's expression, stunned by the simple manner in which her friend had just resolved her predicament. "I... don't know what to say."_

_"Yes or no, Miri, it's a simple question."_

_"Yes, then." Miranda tried for an offhand tone. "Not like I have anything better to do, is it?"_

_"Gee, Lawson, you should sign up for military service. Enthusiasm like that will get you noticed and promoted in no time."_

_Overwhelmed with gratitude, Miranda twisted around to look Shepard full in the face, grasping her friend's hands and squeezing them. "Rachel?"_

_Shepard's eyebrows arched in surprise at the rare use of her first name, but she refrained from cracking wise. "Yeah, Miri?"_

_"Thank you." Miranda was horrified to feel a sudden, choking lump in her throat and tears stinging her eyes. "I... damn it, I..."_

_"You're welcome, Miri," Shepard replied softly, wrapping Miranda in a hug. "You're welcome."_

"Ma'am?"

The respectful enquiry shattered Miranda's reverie, and she shook herself. "Yes, Specialist?"

"You wanted to be informed when the shore party was within five klicks of its objective."

Miranda nodded to the salarian duty comm tech. "Thank you. Carry on." Turning on her heel, she headed to the war room. "Lieutenant Beauchene has the bridge."

"Acknowledged. Lieutenant Beauchene has the bridge," EDI confirmed. "The XO stands relieved."

Miranda made her way to the war room, bringing up the HUD for the shore party on the main holographic display, and began studying the objectives. "All right, Shep, let's see what they've got for you."

_The Wastes, Tuchanka_

They left the tomkah parked in a partially collapsed tunnel mouth about three klicks from the target. Grunt led the way out onto the surface, battling a grin. "Something funny, Grunt?" Shepard asked.

"Heh, no, just savouring the moment, the calm before battle. I haven't had a really good fight since Earth. It's all too much talk and posturing around here lately. I'm looking forward to this, Battlemaster. Back with my _krannt_."

Shepard laughed. "I missed you too, big guy. Keep it leashed till we need it, though."

"Don't worry, Shepard, I won't squish your pretty asari, or your pet turian, or even your puny humans."

Cailian grinned as she nudged Liara. "Hear that? He thinks we're squishable."

Grunt snorted. "I was talking about you, new blue. Liara's _krannt_ \- I've seen her fight Rachni and kill Banshees. She's a worthy companion, a strong warrior, and a fit mate for my Battlemaster."

Liara grinned as she nudged Cailian back. "Hear that? He thinks _you're_ squishable."

The asari commando smirked. "He's _very_ young. He'll learn."

"OK, enough with the trash talk," Shepard ordered amiably. "Grunt, take point. I'll take the left flank with Liara, Cailian, you take the right with Takagi, Caius, bring up the rear with Westmoreland. Keep your eyes peeled - there's plenty of hostiles hereabouts even without indoctrinated krogan. This planet is, according to someone I know very well, one giant death trap." She winked at Liara. "So if something moves, sing out, bearing and range. Questions... No? All right, let's move."

They made good headway, covering the bulk of the distance over the broken ground in less than an hour. Stopping for a quick water break in the lee of a shattered building, Grunt rechecked their waypoints and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. We're pretty close. We need to head up there," he pointed to a cluster of ruined buildings centred around a raised plaza about two hundred metres away, where a few broken statues stood a forlorn watch. "We should be able to see the target at that point."

Shepard took a pull from her canteen and was about to reply when the ground shook beneath them, a faint tremor that shook loose a few chunks of decrepit masonry. Shepard, Liara and Grunt exchanged a pained look. "Oh, perfect," Shepard muttered in disgust, clipping her water bottle back to her belt.

"What was that? Felt like a microearthquake," Caius remarked.

"Thresher maw," Grunt supplied casually. Cailian, who had been kneeling on the ground, pushed abruptly to her feet with a bitten-off curse. "Heading this way," Grunt continued. "Not sure how big," he grinned, "though we're not _that_ far from Kalros' hunting grounds."

"Goddess… Kalros survived the fight with the Reaper?" Liara asked uneasily.

"Yeah. Tough old bitch. Wrex sent a team to watch for her. She was quiet for a real long time, but about three months ago we started picking up activity again. And then we lost the lookout team, so we assumed she was pretty hungry." Grunt shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably still is. A maw that size needs a lot of feeding, heh."

"Great. We need to get off the surface, fast," Shepard ordered. "Whatever size this one is, it'll be plenty big enough to kill us all even if it's not big momma herself. Grunt, you know the terrain - where to?"

Grunt pointed to their next waypoint. "The plaza's built on a rock outcrop - that should be solid enough. It'll be able to hear us, but it shouldn't be able to tunnel up."

"All right, move it, people!" Shepard snapped as she broke into a steady run. Liara overtook her about halfway to the steps, her light armour and weapons not encumbering her as much as the other members of the party. As Liara pulled ahead, Shepard halted and turned, checking her team. Cailian and Caius swept past, followed closely by Westmoreland and Takagi, with Grunt bringing up the rear. About three hundred metres behind the krogan, a tell-tale string of dust clouds indicated the maw was definitely in pursuit. "It's coming! Get your ass moving, Grunt!" Shepard bellowed, unshipping her rifle and backing towards their safe haven even as she flicked her comms to Liara's private freak. "Li, get up to a vantage point and keep eyes on me, will ya? I might need a lift out of here."

"Got it," Liara acknowledged. "I'm at the steps now. Hurry, Rachel, you're too far out. You need to be within thirty metres or so for me to be able to pull you. The closer the better."

Grunt lumbered past, chest heaving, teeth gritted as he ran as fast as he could. The dust clouds were getting closer, and Shepard could feel the vibration under her feet. Seventy-five metres to go, and the maw had gained by a hundred or so. _Fuck, this is gonna be tight_. Shepard pulled a frag grenade from her belt and threw it back at the advancing creature. The detonation might disorient it a little. "Fire in the hole!"

"I didn't really need the extra incentive, Shepard!" Grunt huffed as Shepard caught up with him, matching pace. "And you don't need to hang back here and babysit me. Go!"

"Save your breath for running," Shepard chided. Up ahead, she saw Westmoreland and Takagi make the steps, turning even as they unshipped their weapons, and then suddenly, Cailian was running back toward them.

Sixty metres.

The grenade detonated, showering both of them with dust and pebbles. Up ahead, Cailian flash-charged, covering half the distance back toward them in a split second.

Fifty metres.

"Run, Rachel," Liara urged over the comm. "Cailian can pull Grunt with her. Get yourself out of there!"

Shepard nodded, and broke into a flat-out sprint; with no further need to concern herself with anyone else's welfare, she pushed herself to her limit, making the most of her nanotech-enhanced physique. Cailian darted past her, and a few seconds later the tall asari flashed back towards the steps with Grunt in tow, leaving Shepard as the rear marker. The ground was shaking now, making her footing treacherous. Blue light shimmered in front of her and then suddenly she was flying, catapulted into the air by Liara's biotic grab, but not supported by it. _Oh shit, that's not right..._ She hit the ground, rolled, came to her feet and kept running.

"What the hell was that?" she threw out across the comm, staggering as the ground shivered beneath her feet.

"I misjudged it, sorry. Still a bit too far." Liara's voice carried an overtone of irritated desperation. "Here, let me..." There was a piercing shriek and a rumbling detonation, and the ground tilted wildly beneath Shepard's feet. She stumbled forward, dodging the tentacle that sprouted right in front of her, and then suddenly the world lit up blue and Shepard was airborne again with far less vertical velocity and far more control. Wrapped in a full biotic field, she made a much softer landing at the top of the steps, rolling into a ball to cushion the impact and skidding to a halt against Westmoreland's legs even as the maw thrashed and screeched, scouring the surface thirty metres out, confused by the sudden loss of contact with its prey. The corporal extended a hand to help her up and she nodded as she got to her feet. "Thanks, Beth."

"Sure thing, Skipper."

Cailian was standing bent over with her hands on her knees, sucking in gulps of air, but she nodded an OK at Shepard's questioning glance.

Liara jumped down from her vantage point atop a broken statue. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.

"Fine, just a little scuffed." Shepard blew out a short breath. "Cailian, good job. You too, Li."

"That was a little too close. I'm sorry I dropped you." Liara was flushed with embarrassment.

"S'OK, I've taken worse tumbles in my time," Shepard dismissed it with a grin, banging her fist off Liara's shoulder plate. "As long as you keep picking me back up again, we're good."

"Was that..." Westmoreland gestured to where the confused maw was lashing out, still stupidly searching for its prey, "what did you call it, Grunt?"

"Kalros?" Grunt asked. "The mother of all thresher maws?" He grinned nastily at the marine. "No. That puny little thing can't be more than a year old."

"Dangerous enough, though," Shepard noted with a chuckle. "OK, hopefully that's enough playing fetch with thresher maws for one trip. Grunt, where to next?"


	6. The Cost of Victory

**The Cost of Victory**

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Standard Orbit, Tuchanka_

Aboard the Normandy, playing eye-in-the-sky for Shepard's team, Miranda was studying the blueprints of the derelict industrial complex that housed their target when the HUD chirped a notification; glancing up, she saw the squad had reached their jump-off waypoint. "EDI, run a comm trace over the target location. Any chatter from the subjects?"

"Negative. They appear to still be unaware of the shore party's presence."

"Any alarm systems or security countermeasures you can detect?"

"There appear to be no electronic security systems in place."

"What about organic security - anything that looks like patrols or sentries?"

"Nothing - there appears to be no structured pattern of movement by the krogan within the complex, nothing to suggest they anticipate an attack."

"That's a little odd for krogan, don't you think?" Miranda wondered.

"My cultural files indicate that securing the boundaries of a camp would be standard practice for krogan hunters or warriors," EDI agreed. "Thus, their lack of precaution could be considered atypical."

"That's what I said," Miranda noted patiently. "But indoctrinated thralls wouldn't plan in any sort of structured way without a controlling intelligence, right?"

"Yes - recorded incidents of husk behaviour in the absence of Reaper presence corroborate that theory," EDI observed. "For example, those you encountered aboard the dead Reaper in orbit of Mnemosyne. They simply attacked whatever was in sight with no discernable strategic patterning."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Miranda replied with a shiver; that mission still held the power to give her nightmares. Shepard had been swarmed under by a dozen husks, relying on her armour and her omni-blade to stay alive until Miranda and Garrus could strip them away a few at a time. If they'd been capable of strategy, half of the husks would have flanked them, and Shepard would have been torn apart before her friends could have reached her. "All right, then it looks like we're go for mission. Do you concur?"

"I concur, Miranda."

Miranda smiled up at the ceiling. "Thanks, EDI. Let's keep our fingers crossed. Literally and figuratively."

_The Wastes, Tuchanka_

"Normandy to shore party."

Shepard ducked into cover, signalling a halt to the team. "Miri, whatcha got?"

"EDI and I have completed our analysis of the tactical environment. It's an old manufacturing plant of some kind, there's heavy machinery everywhere. It'll be a rabbit warren, lots of potential for traps and ambushes. Blind corners and choke points on every route to the central rooms. Should provide you with no end of thrills."

"Swell."

"I'm uploading the layout to your omni-tools now. On the upside, there's no defensive perimeter to speak of, either electronic or sentries, and we're not picking up any radiological signals, so I'm almost certain there are no old nukes lying around in there."

"You always manage to find a silver lining, don't you, Miss Lawson?" Shepard studied the layout carefully for a few moments, noting the likely ambush sites and hazards. "OK, we'll break into two teams. Cailian, take Caius, Westmoreland and Takagi. Work your way around the left side of the complex, clearing as you go. I'll take Liara and Grunt and head right. We'll meet you round the back," Shepard tapped the haptic map to set the waypoint, and Cailian synched the data to her own omni-tool, "here, and assess the situation before we go in. Miri, EDI, you still there?"

"We are in geosynchronous orbit, Shepard," the AI replied. "Relative to your position, we have not moved."

Shepard grinned; she could almost see Miranda rolling her eyes. "Thanks, EDI. Keep monitoring activity in the complex, and flag any anomalies to both Cailian and me."

"Understood, Commander," Miranda confirmed. "We'll be in touch."

"Thanks, Normandy. Shepard out."

It didn't take long to reach their forward position, and as they settled into a defensive position, Shepard checked her omni-tool, watching Cailian's team's progress to their jump-off point and the bio-signatures of the krogan inside the compound. So far, everything looked good.

"Cailian to Shepard," the asari commando's voice sounded in her ear after a few moments of quiet. "We're in position, ready to go."

"Understood. Stand by for my signal." Shepard switched frequencies. "Miri, we're in position. Any last tactical gems?"

"They still don't seem to be aware of you. I'd say this is as good as it gets."

"Got it. Thanks, Miri."

"Good hunting, Shep, and watch your arses in there. Normandy out."

Shepard exchanged a glance with Liara as the connection closed. "I hate doing this," she said softly, pitched for her bondmate's ears alone. "They don't stand a chance, and they can't help themselves."

Liara nodded. "I know, but we don't have a choice," she offered. "It's a pale shadow of comfort, but left unchecked they will infect everyone they come into contact with. And they're already dead, by any compassionate measure of quality of life."

"Thanks, Li." Shepard reached out to stroke her bondmate's cheek, grateful that Liara understood.

"Heh, let's go, Shepard," Grunt growled impatiently, "there's fighting to be done. I smell Reapers."

Shepard nodded, taking a deep breath. "OK. Ready?"

"Ready," Grunt agreed, priming his shotgun.

Liara clenched her fist, sparking a small corona of dark energy around her hand. "Ready."

"All right, let's do this. Shepard to shore party. Take them."

The engagement was ugly, but mercifully short. Shepard's squad was composed of some of the best soldiers in the galaxy, and the effects of the indoctrination meant the krogan were handicapped by their inability to think beyond the primal level. Being krogan, they still posed a huge threat at close quarters, but the Normandy team simply did not permit them to get too near. Attacking in sequence, one group would draw the attention of the krogan, and when they got close enough to charge, the other group took over, pulling them away. It was much less a fight than a slaughter, and for all that they had no real alternative - the thralls would not allow them to take or destroy the artefact - Shepard was still sickened by the butchery they were inflicting. As the last krogan fell, the sudden silence was accusatory, and Shepard stepped out into the open, popping the heat sink from her rifle just to break the awful stillness. _God, I hope Karin can do something to figure this out. _

Slowly, the others broke cover to join her. "Everyone all right?" she asked, knowing it to be the case but still relieved at the ripple of nods. "Good. Let's make sure they're all dead, find the piece of junk that did this to them, and blow it to hell and gone. Then we can get the fuck out of here."

Liara shot her a concerned glance at her harsh choice of language, but did not comment as she turned away.

Grunt stood staring at the bodies, confusion etched into his features. "That was not a good fight, Shepard," he complained, his tone subdued.

"I know, buddy," Shepard confirmed wearily. "Without the Reapers around to control them, they're no real threat in pitched combat. But they can't be left to turn other people."

Grunt wrinkled his nose. "They're better off dead," he remarked. "The Reapers have taken from them all that made them krogan, made them weak and mindless. They would have starved, or sickened, rotting away while they still drew breath. A clean death is better. We set them free." He nodded, satisfied with his pronouncement, and moved off.

"Shepard!" Cailian's shout echoed off the shattered walls of the compound, and the commander headed over to where the asari soldier had just emerged from a side door leading off the main chamber. Most of the wall was gone, but clearly it had been a storeroom of sorts once. "In here. Looks like a piece of a processing unit."

Shepard followed the asari through the freestanding archway. The blue-black Reaper component was unmistakable, squatting malevolently on a concrete block set in the centre of a carefully cleared area, like some obscene idol. She glared at it in disgust, memories of object Rho and Sovereign clawing at the edges of her concentration. For a moment, she imagined she could feel the waves of corruption pouring from it, starting the same itch at the back of her neck that the words "radiation" and "EVA" triggered. And then, from a deeper scar in her mind, a memory surfaced, of Jack Harper seizing command of her body, forcing her to lift her gun, compelling her fingers to squeeze the trigger_... The shot rang out, and Anderson's scream was drowned out by Shepard's cry of denial, echoing mockingly around the cavernous chamber. She fought again to break free, but the tendrils of the Illusive Man's gleeful, malevolent will only snaked more tightly around her._

A hot spike of anger surged through Shepard, the familiar rage she felt whenever the Reaper's legacy of ongoing slaughter presented itself. _All the people you killed already, they weren't enough for you? You just had to have the last word, didn't you, you bastards? _

_Did they? _a snide little voice queried as her heartbeat started to drum through her skull. _This is down to you, isn't it? It was your choice to destroy them, to leave them scattered through the galaxy where people could be affected by them. If you'd taken control of them, you could have sent them away, so far away that no one could ever be hurt by them again. But you wanted them dead. Aren't these people all paying the price for your need for vengeance?_

"Shepard?"

She blinked, let out a gasp, looked up to meet Cailian's concerned gaze, felt the firm grip of an armoured hand on her shoulder. "You OK, boss?" the asari commando enquired. "You were staring at that thing like it was telling you something."

Shepard nodded, blowing out a breath. "Yeah. It was… just a flashback," she confided, rubbing her face with her hands, feeling the sweat slicking her skin, "a memory." She shot a glance over the ruined wall to where Liara was examining one of the bodies, seemingly oblivious, and breathed a sigh of relief that the commando had interrupted the attack before it got bad enough for Liara to pick it up through their bond. "I'm fine, really. Thanks," she assured Cailian.

Cailian darted her own quick look at the ops officer, and frowned skeptically, but then shrugged. "If you say so," she agreed eventually. "Want me to take care of it?" She lifted the ordnance pack she was holding with a suggestive nod toward the debris.

Shepard spared the remains of their would-be conqueror one final, loathing glance. "Do it," she ordered harshly. Raising her voice, she called to the team. "OK, people, we're done here. Let's pick up a body for the Doc to analyse, and get ready to move out."

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Standard Orbit, Tuchanka_

"Shore party to Normandy, T'Soni here."

"Go ahead, Liara," Miranda acknowledged, a worm of disquiet wriggling in her gut that it wasn't Shepard on the comm.

"We've cleared the site. No casualties and the artefact has been destroyed." Liara paused. "Miranda... may I speak with you and EDI on a private channel?"

"Sure, wait one second." Miranda switched to her personal comm frequency. "What's up?"

"EDI, can you check Shepard's vitals from about three minutes ago, please?"

There was a beat of silence as the AI processed, then, "Elevated heart rate and blood pressure, adrenaline spike, increased serotonin levels. I postulate that the commander experienced a traumatic memory event."

"She had a flashback?" Miranda demanded.

"I thought I felt something," Liara sighed. "Don't worry, Miranda, she's fine, I just wanted to confirm my hunch. We're heading back to the Hollows in a few minutes - we'll check in when we get there."

"Great. Try not to get eaten by thresher maws on the way, OK?"

"No promises," Liara retorted dryly. "T'Soni out."

"Shit," Miranda huffed as she shut down the holo display. She hated the idea of Shepard suffering, hated the fact that it was something she couldn't help with.

"This is the first incidence of traumatic recall Shepard has experienced in the field in over a month, Miranda," EDI offered. "All evidence suggests the frequency is decreasing, which would indicate continuing improvement." The AI paused. "Would it be improper for me to express optimism that Shepard will be fully recovered before much more time has elapsed?"

Miranda chuckled. "We've really got to get your natural language algorithms recalibrated. No, it wouldn't be improper. In fact, it's appreciated, EDI, thanks."

"Should I refer my readings to Dr. Chakwas and Liara?"

"Absolutely."

_The Hollows, Kelphic Valley, Tuchanka_

"I take it you won?" Wrex asked with a grin as Shepard and Liara made their entrance to the hall.

"Yeah," Shepard replied soberly, still troubled by the mission. "It wasn't much of a fight. Ugly as all hell."

"Well, we can't all aspire to your grace on the battlefield, Shepard," Wrex chuckled. "Were they thralls?"

"Yeah. There was a chunk of what looked like a Reaper processor sitting on a stone block in the middle of the facility like some damn altar." Shepard scrubbed a hand through her sweaty hair. "The charges we set should have vaporized it, and we brought the building down on top of it to be sure. Sorry for wrecking the joint."

"Bah," Wrex flapped a dismissive hand. "Who'd notice one more ruin around here anyway? Thanks for taking care of it for me."

"Thanks for lending me Grunt," Shepard countered. "He made our lives a hell of a lot easier."

Wrex looked over at his young clan brother. "Your battlemaster's pleased, pup," he rumbled. "You bring honour to clan Urdnot, blah, blah, blah. Now, why don't you take Shepard's team and get them some water and shade, before all the puny aliens shrivel in the sun."

Grunt nodded, and Shepard gestured to Liara to stay. "Cailian, you have command for now. Go with Grunt and let Cortez know we'll need him in about an hour."

"You got it," the asari agreed, falling into step with Grunt and slapping his shoulder with a comradely excess of swagger. "C'mon, kid, let's you and me share some war stories, and then we'll decide who's the squishy one."

Once the team were out of earshot, Shepard turned back to Wrex, curiosity piqued by his brusque dismissal of his protégé. "Something on your mind, Wrex?"

Wrex nodded at the departing group. "Grunt."

"I suspected as much. What about him?" Shepard dissembled, though she had a pretty good idea of what was coming.

"The kid's bored, Shepard - knocking heads on Tuchanka isn't half as much fun as it used to be now that we're all _civilized_," Wrex sighed. "He's young, engineered to be aggressive and dominant, more so than most krogan, and he's too good a soldier, too good a fighter to be standing around here playing with his quad." Liara's eyebrow markings shot up in shock, and Shepard choked off an involuntary snort of laughter as Wrex leered at her.

"So, what, you want me to take him with me?"

"That's very kind of you, Shepard, thanks for offering," Wrex chuckled.

"Don't think I don't see what you're up to, Wrex," Shepard accused, her suspicions having been proved correct. "You got bounced with your request to the Council to appoint a krogan Spectre, and now you're looking for a back door."

"Damn right," Wrex agreed unapologetically. "Bakara may be on the Council, we may have been given a place, but the Normandy is the ultimate symbol of galactic inclusion. Hell, there's even a volus on your crew, but no krogan, no hanar, no vorcha, no elcor. With the hanar and the elcor you have unavoidable reasons for exclusion, and no one in their right mind would want a vorcha, but seriously, no krogan? You don't have an excuse for that."

Shepard flushed, irritated at the unjust accusation, temper still simmering from the events at the factory. "Wow, you've got a short memory, buddy. I asked you to let me take Grunt _months_ ago and you told me to get lost! And don't you _dare_ insinuate that I have a problem with the vorcha, either - we made an offer to a candidate and he refused."

Wrex held up a pacifying hand. "Woah, don't get your quad all twisted, Shepard. I did say no - I wanted to put Grunt forward for consideration as a full Spectre, not just a training candidate. So when I turned you down, I expected you to ask for someone else."

"Well, I've got a newsflash for you, pal - Grunt was the only krogan I wanted." Shepard took a deep breath, trying to contain her temper. "The Normandy may be a symbol, Wrex, but it isn't a cosmetic one. I don't want makeweights on my ship who are only there to make us look good. And I'm sure as hell not handing out Spectre candidacies or training positions based on species. Someone has to earn the right to be considered. Miranda and Liara have proved themselves worthy of being named Spectres, and Taeris and Oraka are highly decorated soldiers that I vetted personally for training. I looked at plenty of krogan candidates, and Grunt was the only one that met my expectations." Shepard sighed. "Spectres must be able to place the welfare of the galaxy as a whole above that of their own species. Grunt has demonstrated the potential to do that, hence he was offered the candidate position on the Normandy. Which _you_ chose to decline. Your application to have Grunt made a Spectre was bounced because he's not ready for that kind of responsibility, and none of your other candidates even came close."

Wrex glared at her. "You're telling me that was your call?"

"God, Wrex, yes!" Shepard snapped, clenching her fists as she took a pace forward. "The Council don't appoint new Spectres without referring them to a panel of serving Spectres for assessment - how the hell else do you think their abilities are judged? We don't just take whoever a government suggests on faith, without evaluation. And also, I took an oath to protect and serve the citizens of the galaxy, and that means I want the Spectres we appoint to be the best. I don't make political decisions, and I don't make cosmetic decisions, I do my damn job. Grunt was offered the position he was suited to, and rejected for the one he was not qualified for. No other candidate met the standard. It's that simple. Get your head out of your ass and start thinking like a battlemaster and not a goddamn politician."

"Shepard," Liara began, "I…"

"I _am_ a goddamn politician, Shepard!" Wrex barked angrily. "Like it or not, and I _really_ don't, that's what I agreed to when I stepped up to lead." He launched himself from his throne to pace up and down the dais. "I need to be able to show the clans that I'm making progress. Bakara on the Council is one step in the right direction, licence to colonize worlds in the DMZ is another, but we're warriors. We respect martial strength and authority, and Spectres are the best expression of those qualities that the united galaxy has to offer. If there are no krogan Spectres, we're less than the other races, no matter what status we hold on the Council. If I can't deliver that," he halted, glaring down at Shepard, "then I'm on borrowed time with the traditionalists. And there are a _lot_ of those crusty old bastards."

"Wrex," Liara tried again, "Shepard was…"

"I got this, Liara, thanks," Shepard interrupted her bondmate, stepping up to the top of the dais and folding her arms across her chest as she met the krogan's stare at point-blank range. "That's _not_ my problem, Wrex. I handed you the opportunity on a plate, and you knocked it back. I hear what you're saying, but don't blame me for your screw-up. I make enough mistakes on my own account, and I'll be damned if I'm taking responsibility for yours as well. Man up and own your fucking decisions, or I really will think you've gone political on me."

Wrex glowered at her for a moment longer, breathing hard, then, quite abruptly, he laughed. "Shit, Shepard. You're right." He sighed heavily. "Sometimes you get so wrapped up in playing the game that you forget how you should think. I'm sorry, my friend, that wasn't fair of me. It's just easy to assume the worst when you've been treated as second rate for so long."

Shepard relented slightly, easing down from her confrontational posture as Wrex took a deliberate step back. "Yeah, well, I can understand that, but I'm a little pissed that you don't seem to think you can trust _me_," she grumbled.

"I was getting that impression," Wrex chuckled. "And it's not true. I do trust you, more than anyone else I know. But I don't trust the people you work for."

Shepard grinned, her annoyance dissipating a little more. "Well, that's fine, Wrex, I don't trust them that much either." Liara arched an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. "And… I'm sorry for snapping - putting those poor bastards down earlier has me a little on edge. Are we good?"

"Depends." Wrex glanced around theatrically. "Is Ash hiding out somewhere, waiting to put a bullet in me?"

Shepard laughed. "Nah. Besides, she was a decoy. Liara was the one tasked with taking you down."

Liara blushed as Wrex eyed her. "Really? I didn't see that at all." He grinned. "Remind me never to play cards with you again, Shepard. You cheat outrageously."

"Noted. Getting back to the point, I'm happy to take Grunt with me now, if you still want that. I never did fill my third trainee spot." Shepard grinned at the krogan chieftain. "Just in case, y'know?"

"Yeah, I think it would be a good idea." Wrex reached out to clasp wrists with Shepard. "Thank you, my friend, for everything you've done. It's been good to see you again."

"You too, buddy, and you're welcome. Let me know the next time you're heading to the Citadel and we can get some drinks. I'll let you tell Grunt the good news. He'll need some time to organize, I guess, so tell him we're breaking orbit in six hours, and if he wants in, he'd better be on board by then."

"I will."

"Take care of yourself, old man."

"Yeah. And you take care of Liara - I like her better than you. Always have."

Liara bobbed a mocking little curtsy. "Why, thank you, Wrex." She stepped in and kissed his cheek. "You're adorable."

"And you're gonna ruin my reputation. Go on, get lost, the pair of you. See you around the galaxy."

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Krogan DMZ Exit Vector Flight Path_

Liara started awake, roused by the uneasy sensation that something was wrong. Rubbing her eyes blearily she looked around as she yawned, but nothing seemed amiss; the night light cast steady shadows around the cabin, punctuated only by the occasional flash of electrical discharge running back over the viewport.

Movement next to her caught her attention, and she looked down to see Shepard writhing, tangling herself ever more inextricably into the bedsheets as she thrashed in the grip of her subconscious. Tears streaked her cheeks, and her face was twisted into a grimace of pain "No..." she mumbled, left arm flailing and catching Liara on the chin, "no... don't, I... Li? Please... Somebody please help me..." Fear, pain, terror, written in her voice, rampaging through her mind: the bleeding of the strong emotion through their bond was undoubtedly what had woken Liara.

The asari quickly rolled over, pinning her bondmate gently to the bed with her bodyweight as she began to lightly pinch the human's cheek. "Rachel? Rachel, wake up!"

Shepard's eyes snapped open and her whole body arched up, rigid with tension, a sob of terror falling from her lips as she jerked awake. "Shhh," Liara soothed. "I'm here, Rachel, it's all right. It was a nightmare, just a dream." She stroked her thumb across Shepard's cheek, thinking to dry the tears that had fallen. Shepard, however, shook the touch away, buried her face in the hollow of Liara's neck and wrapped her arms around the asari, pulling her into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably into the private sanctuary of Liara's body. Liara threaded her fingers in Shepard's hair, combing it gently as she reached for their bond, drawing her partner gently into a shallow emotional meld, letting Rachel feel the presence and radiance of Liara's love for her.

When Shepard eventually quieted, relaxing her hold on her bondmate, Liara tucked her hair back behind her ear and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "OK?" she asked softly.

Shepard lifted her head, and pulled herself up so that they were side by side. Liara could still easily read the anguish in her face, and traced the tear tracks with a delicate touch. Shepard caught her hand, pressing a kiss into her palm. "Thank you," she said softly.

"My pleasure. What were you dreaming of?"

Shepard shrugged. "I don't remember. It's gone, vaporized as soon as you woke me."

"The mission really bothered you today, didn't it?" Liara pressed gently. "I know you had a flashback."

Shepard sighed wryly. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed. I don't like to worry you."

"I prefer to be worried, and in a position to help. Did Karin talk to you?"

"Yeah. It flagged up in my biometrics. She was all over me like a rash when I got back." Shepard chuckled softly. "She let slip that Miranda and EDI had been checking up on me, and... wait a second." Shepard's tone became suspicious. "How did _you_ know that Chakwas knew?"

Liara bit her lip, and refrained from responding. There was nothing she could say, really. Shepard rolled up onto one elbow, and looked down at her. "You put them up to it," the commander accused.

Liara shrugged. "I felt your emotions spike across the bond, just briefly. I asked EDI to look into it."

"Instead of, say... just asking me?"

"I didn't want to make a fuss in front of the team, I know you wouldn't have appreciated that. And besides, you don't lie to Karin."

Shepard ducked her head, lifting Liara's arm and snuggling under it, pillowing her head on Liara's shoulder. "You know me far too well," she grumbled, but Liara could tell the discontent was mostly faked. She ran her fingers through Shepard's hair then slipped her hand under the human's sweat-damp t-shirt, stroking her belly soothingly and draping one leg across her bondmate's thighs. Rachel let out a soft sigh. "I wouldn't lie to you either, Li," she said after a moment.

"I know," Liara assured her. "But you do put off telling me things sometimes, or omit them altogether, for fear of worrying me. And no matter how often I ask, you backslide now and again."

"I've already made you worry enough to last your whole life," Shepard fretted, but there was no real conviction in her words, and Liara knew the human was arguing with herself as much as anyone else. She dropped a comforting kiss on Shepard's forehead.

"Don't worry about it. I'd be concerned if you didn't. It's the way you are, and not easily altered. But just so you know, I don't plan on giving up."

"_I'd_ be concerned if you did." Shepard smiled, and slid her hand across Liara's body to rest it against the asari's chest, where she could feel her bondmate's heartbeat. "G'night, Li. I love you."

"I love you too, Rachel. Good night."

* * *

**A/N**: _So, thanks to everyone who's following along, reading and reviewing, I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far. If you've enjoyed my fanfics over the last couple of years, I hope that you might also like my new original fic, "Burning Suns: Conflagration", published in collaboration with SunTzu Games. The first issue is out now, free to download, and the link is available on my profile page - if you do check it out I'd love to know what you think. The support and encouragement you guys have given me has made this new work possible, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for that. You rock, guys, you really do._


	7. Vox Populae

**Vox Populae**

_SSV Orizaba, Citadel Defence Force, Sol System _

"Orizaba Group Actual, this is the CIC."

Hannah clenched her fist absently to open a comm channel with her omni-tool as she continued reading her sitrep. "Shepard here, go."

"Ma'am, this is Lieutenant Frost, CIC watch officer. I have an incoming QEC transmission for you from the GCV Normandy."

The news pulled Hannah's attention from her intel reports, and she grinned as she got to her feet. "Thanks, LT, I'll be right there."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

Hannah made her way from her duty cabin just off the CIC main deck to the private comm room aft. Activating the emitters, she smiled a greeting as the pale blue image of her only child leapt into view. "Hi, Mom."

"Rachel, honey, it's good to see you. Is this a social call?"

"Good to see you too. It's semi-social," Rachel replied. "How are you?"

"I'm good. No complaints, at least. How about you?"

"Yeah, doing fine, thanks. Everything quiet where you are?"

"Pretty much. A little local colour with the elections on Earth the other day, though."

"Right, yeah. What happened with that?"

"God, don't ask," Hannah groaned. "Terra Firma won the majority."

"Aw, fuck," Shepard junior growled. "Really?"

"Really. Eighty percent of the vote. And yeah, I know, that jackass Saracino is absolutely the last person we should have as a Prime Minister, but apparently, democracy has spoken."

"Yeah, with the voice of a moron," Rachel quipped sourly. "So much for my absentee ballot. If it even got there in time."

"You're just hearing about this now?" Hannah queried, surprised.

"Yeah, I was out of touch on Thessia for a week or so, then we were diverted to Tuchanka, so we've been in blackout for a few days while we chugged back to the active relay lanes." Rachel grinned momentarily. "It's driving Liara nuts. And besides, while I was on Thessia... I had way more important things to think about."

"I'll bet. I remember what it was like when I didn't see your father for a tour at a time." Hannah chuckled as Rachel ducked her chin and scratched at the back of her neck. "Don't worry, kiddo, I'm not Aethyta, that's as far as my reminiscence is going to go. How is Liara anyway?"

"She's good. Happy to be back on board. Sends her love."

"And send the same to her, please."

"I'll do that. Anyway, the election, eighty percent, really? And it was all legal and above board?"

"As far as anyone knows," Hannah replied. "There haven't been any stories of impropriety on the local news, and Westerlund are still pretty adept at sniffing out a scandal in spite of the comm networks being decimated."

"Yeah, well, cockroaches are hard to eradicate."

"Why d'you want to know, anyway?"

"Just… I dunno, just a bump of trouble, maybe," Rachel admitted with a shrug. "It feels off, somehow. I'm surprised."

"I'm not," Hannah confided. "The more time passes with what appears to be little or no progress, the angrier people are becoming. The perception that the Citadel is draining resources doesn't really help matters."

"But that's ridiculous," Rachel protested heatedly. "All the governments contribute equal funding. And if anything, the Citadel being dependent on Earth for supplies is actually a benefit – it creates work and stable supply lines, and investment from the other species. If people think it's bad there, they should see some of the cities on Palaven, or Thessia. Or the way the krogan have had to live for centuries on Tuchanka."

"All valid points. But they don't see it, nobody's telling them about it, and blaming someone else for your problems is an old politician's gambit. Saracino's making hay out of it for all he's worth. 'Earth's resources being spent to support alien diplomats' champagne lifestyles while our people starve.' It's all the news networks carry – he must be paying them a goddamn fortune. God knows how he's bankrolling it all."

"Are the Council being kept informed?"

"Well, Rossikovsky must be aware, but as to how much he discloses..." Hannah spread her hands uncertainly. "I don't know the man or his politics."

Rachel frowned. "I think I might ask Tevos, or Bakara, or maybe Zaal'Koris. A rise in anti-alien sentiment on Earth could present a risk to the Citadel."

"Aren't you being a little paranoid, honey?"

"Maybe," Rachel conceded. "But I learned quite a while back not to ignore my gut, and it's trying to tell me something. I just need to figure out what."

"They're a democratically elected government, kiddo. You may not like them, but lots of other people do, and you don't get to pick and choose which governments you want to work for."

Rachel chuckled. "You're forgetting, Mom – as a Spectre with no Alliance affiliation, actually, I kinda do." She shrugged. "At any rate, I'll do some nosing around when we arrive. That was the other reason for my call - we're heading back to Sol, as soon as we hit Serpent. I was hoping you'd join us for the evening in three days' time, get a chance to catch up?"

Hannah smiled. Since their reunion on Earth at the end of the war, they were both trying a lot harder to keep in touch, to not allow the pressures of their jobs to supersede communications. "That'd be great, Rachel. I'll clear it with Hackett and confirm."

"Great. OK, I should go. I'll see you soon, Mom."

"Bye, honey. And remember to give Liara my love."

"Will do. Shepard out."

* * *

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Serpent Approach Flight Path_

"Unbelievable!"

Liara looked up from her reports as Shepard stomped into their cabin. "What's unbelievable?"

"Earth... the Alliance... the stupidity of humanity," Shepard growled. "Take your pick."

Liara arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Would you believe, they elected Terra Firma to govern? Our new prime minister and representative to the rest of the galaxy is Charles bloody Saracino." Shepard flopped dramatically onto the couch and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh... Oh dear," Liara hazarded, and Shepard twisted her head slightly to peer at her bondmate through her hair.

"Really? That's the best you can come up with?"

"Well, I'm concerned, naturally, since Terra Firma are reactionary, conservative, bigoted and isolationist, and likely to create a lot of friction in galactic governance, but don't you think you're overreacting just a little?"

"No," Shepard retorted, "I don't. You weren't with us when we met Saracino, were you?"

"No - if I recall that was before you rescued me from Therum."

"Wrex wanted to rip his head off. Maybe I should have let him. The galaxy would be a cleaner place without that ignorant bastard going around polluting people's minds with bullshit."

"_Rachel!_" Liara gasped, shocked by her bondmate's vehemence. Even though she recognized that Shepard spoke partly in jest, it was rare for her to express such vitriolic dislike. Not even Donnel Udina had rated such a low opinion. Dropping her datapad, Liara scooted closer and drew back the curtain of auburn hair that screened her partner's face. "What's bothering you?"

Shepard sighed and lounged back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Terra Firma were founded and bankrolled by Cerberus as a smokescreen for their activities, a political mouthpiece. And Saracino's an idiot. He has a right to his opinion, fine, I don't dispute that, but I just..." she sighed again, "the idea of Cerberus' political puppet leading the Alliance offends me. It's an insult to everyone who died at Cerberus' hands, and worse, it's a slap in the face to the other species. Hey look everyone, turns out we thought Cerberus had the right idea after all!" She got to her feet, too agitated to sit still. "Jesus, it's estimated that the casualties in London and in orbit, in that final battle, were about a million. _One million people_ died to get me onto that fucking platform, and more than eighty percent of those casualties were non-human. And that's not even counting the geth." She pivoted round to face Liara, tears standing in her eyes. "Aren't _you_ offended by that most humans on Earth know so little about what happened in their own back yard that they can't even be grateful? Or worse, that they took your people's - and everyone else's - help with getting _their_ relay open, benefitted from the Citadel relief efforts and then gave you the bird at the first opportunity?"

"The bird?"

Shepard snorted. "Sorry. Politely invited you to fuck off."

Liara shook her head gently. "No, I'm not. It took the threat of total annihilation to drive the galaxy to co-operate. It was inevitable that it would fracture again without that impetus, and the political situations on Thessia, Rannoch, and Palaven are no different. The local governments are looking inward, and the Council's fighting them for any scrap of leeway they can get. It's not only the humans, Rachel, it's everyone. It's how the galaxy is." Liara opened her arms, beckoned her bondmate. Shepard drew breath as though she wanted to refute Liara's comments, but then her shoulders slumped in defeat. She slouched over and lay down, and Liara pulled her human's head into her lap, combing her hair out soothingly. "Back when we first met, I was keen to find out as much as I could about humans, so I spent some time researching your history, and I was surprised to learn that several nation states on Earth had experimented with communism."

"Yeah, I remember reading about that in school. It worked out really well. Not." Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "But you guys are pretty much communists, right?"

"In a sense, though we don't seek to enforce equality from above." Liara pursed her lips as she considered it. "Better to say we are community-ist, I suppose, more concerned with the welfare of our local communities. Global government was a late development for us. But getting back to humans, culturally you are very focused on individual achievement, on being independent and self-reliant, and your governments tend to encourage that. Thus, concern for others may extend to immediate family and friends, but not much further, except in an abstract sense."

"I don't know that I agree with that."

"Well," Liara smiled, "you're not the best example, perhaps, but if I were to ask a human on the street what their goal is in life, their first answer is almost never going to be the betterment of their society." Liara shrugged. "It's not wrong or selfish, it's simply that you are permitted the freedom to act more or less as you see fit, within certain limits, by the principles of your societies. You aren't truly unified, and you likely never will be. You're a spacer, Ashley is a colonist, Adams is an Earther. Beauchene is an Earther, too, but he's a European, and so is Chakwas, but she is English where he is French. You drill down and drill down to create almost unique identities within your society, it's fascinating."

"You're getting a little off-topic there, sweetheart," Shepard interrupted fondly.

Liara smiled down at her. "I thought you found my digressions cute?"

"Oh I do, but I'm supposed to be on duty and I can only take so long a break."

"I suppose," Liara agreed. "So, you're individuals. It's what makes you so successful as pioneers and entrepreneurs, but it runs counter to the ideals of communism, unless there is an external pressure to band together. Which can only ever be short-lived. The turians, in contrast, are rigidly society minded, but that surrender of individual will to the will of the state requires years of conditioning, and their concern extends only as far as the borders of their own space." Liara sighed. "The quarians are proving my point as they try to translate their society from survival mode to growth. They're showing all the signs of sliding toward civil unrest."

Shepard was silent for a moment as she considered Liara's words, then she let out a long breath. "I hear you, I just... I'm disappointed."

"Understandably. As I was by my people's reaction to the Reaper threat. But not everyone is like you, Rachel. You have to try to remember that from time to time." Liara leaned down and kissed Shepard softly. "It'll take time to rebuild things to the point where the races feel they can cooperate. And if there is to be a bold move toward galactic collaboration, frankly, the drive will have to come from the asari. No other race will take as long-range a viewpoint."

"Yeah, I guess." Shepard reached up to stroke Liara's cheek. "Well, democracy has spoken, so there's not much to be done about it, I suppose."

"If you like, I could overthrow the government for you," Liara offered with a smirk. "After all, I haven't got you a birthday present yet."

Shepard chuckled. "Don't tempt me." Her expression became curious. "Do you really have the resources in place to do that?"

Liara shrugged. "I haven't considered it in detail, but I could probably make it happen within a few months."

Shepard shivered. "Sometimes I forget just how much influence that network gives you. It's a good thing you're a nice person." She sat up suddenly. "But there is one thing you could do for me."

"Name it."

"Could you put together a dossier on Charles Saracino and Terra Firma?"

"Easily," Liara acknowledged. "What are you looking for?"

"I don't know yet," Shepard admitted.

"You think something's wrong with the election result? Other than that it's not who you wanted?"

"I don't know, really. Mom seemed to think it was all above board, but..." Shepard shook her head, "something's off about it. I can feel it in my gut. It was a landslide victory, and that really seems a little over the top."

"You know I don't like to rely on intuition," Liara reproved.

"I'm not asking you to," Shepard replied with a grin. "I'm asking you to find me something to substantiate it."

Liara smiled back. "Well, when you put it like that... I'll look into it. How far back do you want me to go?"

"As far as you can. If he used to torture his pets, got bullied at school, set fire to stuff, and had a domineering mother, we'll know we're on to something."

Liara blinked. "I'm clearly missing an important cultural context here."

Shepard chuckled humourlessly. "Bad joke. They're stereotypical indicators for a serial killer."

"Charming," Liara replied. "Leave it with me, I'll let you know what I find."

"Thanks, Li." Shepard got to her feet. "I'd better get back to it. See you for dinner?"

"Of course."

**oOoOo**

Dak'Tiri vas QuibQuib drummed his fingers against his facemask, a bad habit his tutors had never really been able to break him of. The task he was currently engaged on was one of the most challenging he'd ever tackled, and he was keen to make a good impression. Which was making him nervous, and thus, the tapping of his fingers against his mask.

"Does the irregular cadence of your finger movements not annoy you?" EDI asked suddenly.

"What?" Dak started from his thoughts.

"The impact of fingers against your faceplate is irregular, with no discernible cadence," EDI explained. "Such lack of pattern, of predictability in movement or sound is known to be antagonizing to organics, particularly if they are musically inclined."

"Well, there's your first problem," Dak chuckled. "I'm about as musically inclined as a rock. It's a subconscious habit, EDI - I'm not really aware that I'm doing it, and when I am aware, it doesn't bother me."

"Are you nervous, Dak?"

The quarian chuckled. "Now, whatever would give you that idea? Yes, I am, a little. You're a complex system, EDI, by far the most complex I've ever worked on. I don't want to cross your wires and end up with you speaking Prothean by default."

The AI rattled off a string of what appeared to be random chittering noises. Dak checked his instruments, then looked up at the ceiling, huffing a sigh.

"Very funny, EDI."

"I try. Joker informs me that my use of humour is becoming more proficient. Would you concur?"

"If your goal in life is to emulate Joker's sense of humour, EDI, I think I have a harder task on my hands here than I first thought." He grinned up at the ceiling. "That was a joke."

"Indeed. Do you require my immediate assistance with anything?"

"No thanks, EDI, I'm just about to start wiring up these components. As smart as you are, until we can get you a new mobile platform, holding the pliers for me might just be beyond you. But I appreciate the thought."

"Then I will leave you to your work, your nerves, and your arrhythmic noises. Logging you out, Dak'Tiri."

"Talk to you later, EDI." Dak picked up his solder gun, and set the heating coil to its highest setting, frowning thoughtfully at the series of memory cores and transistors he had carefully optimized to EDI's system specs. Admiral Tali'Zorah had given him every scrap of data she had on her repairs to the AI. Given what little equipment she'd had to work with, the progress she'd made had been incredible. Months later, working on EDI every spare moment he had, Dak still hadn't made even half the progress.

He'd worried about it to Shepard a few weeks back, and the commander had shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it, Dak," she'd said. "Any improvement is a good thing, and I'd far rather you were slow and careful than hasty and sloppy. EDI's too important to rush into anything, and in actual fact she's probably your best resource for improving herself. I'd offer to lend you Glyph, but I think Liara might object."

Still, Tali was a hard act to follow. To their credit, none of the humans who'd worked with her had drawn any comparisons, in fact, the day he'd come aboard Lieutenant Commander Adams had looked him up and down, grinned broadly and greeted him with, "Now she's the Normandy again. It ain't right to have her in the deep without a quarian to watch the engines. Welcome aboard, son." Daniels and Donnelly had been similarly pleased, and he'd settled in quickly, but knowing you were walking in the footsteps of your people's biggest hero, well, it wasn't a feeling to inspire confidence.

He could see why Tali had loved her time aboard this ship, though. Most mornings he awoke unable to believe his luck, that his pilgrimage should have become an opportunity to work with the heroes of the Reaper War. With Commander Shepard.

No sooner had he thought the name when the human herself appeared, stepping through the doors to the AI core from the medbay. "Hey, Dak, Adams said I'd find you here."

"Commander." Dak carefully set down his tools and started to stand, only to be pushed gently back down.

"Don't get up, kid. I was just doing my rounds, and I seem to keep missing you in Engineering, so I thought I'd check in. Everything going OK?"

"Sure," Dak replied. "I'm preparing some new memory cores to expand EDI's capacity. Once they're installed she should have much better process runtime, increased redundancy subroutines, and more data storage potential. That would put her at close to eighty-eight percent of her last known diagnostic prior to the Normandy's crash."

A squall of sorrow flitted across the Commander's face, but she nodded resolutely. "That's great, Dak. You've done a good job with EDI's systems thus far. At least, _she_ seems satisfied with you."

"I find Dak'Tiri's skills to be above average for an organic," EDI observed.

"Didn't you log off?" Dak queried.

"She never does," Shepard remarked, grinning. "She tells you she has, but don't let that fool you. I'm pretty sure she eavesdrops even more than STG communications headquarters."

There was a brief moment of prim silence, then the AI replied, "There are approximately two-thousand four hundred and fifty discrete audio sensing components aboard the Normandy, Shepard, and they are my primary interface for interacting with the crew. It is hardly possible for me to refrain from hearing information of a personal nature."

"Yeah, that's your excuse. If you weren't such an incurable gossip, I might be more convinced."

"On the topic of interactions, Shepard, I have a question."

The commander exchanged an apprehensive glance with Dak. The AI's questions were nearly always gloriously unpredictable, and frequently excruciating. Dak still couldn't decide if the innocence was simply a machine lack of comprehension, or if EDI was, in fact, playing them all for suckers to brilliant effect.

Shepard let out a long, slow breath, as though bracing herself. "OK, EDI, shoot."

"It concerns romantic relationships."

Shepard screwed one eye shut, and stuck a finger in her ear. "Go on," she invited in an apprehensive tone.

"You have firsthand sexual experience, Commander…"

"Oh boy, here we go…"

"Specifically, I am curious about your interest in asari."

Shepard glared up at the ceiling. "One asari," she corrected. "And don't think for a minute that you can get information out of me that Liara refuses to share with you."

"For someone who engages in sexual activity as often as Liara does, she is surprisingly reticent with information," the AI complained.

Dak avoided eye contact with his CO as he watched her blush, grateful that his own embarrassment was hidden by his faceplate. Shepard shifted her weight awkwardly as she developed an intense interest in the deckplates. "Get on with it, EDI," she muttered in a pained tone.

"Asari are known to be anatomically similar to humans in respect of…

"Adams to Dak." The Chief Engineer's voice rang over the comm, cutting EDI off, and Dak seized on the diversion like a drowning man grabbing a rope.

"Dak here, what do you need?"

"If you're done with EDI for the moment I could use your help with the FBA coupling optimization."

"Sure, I'm on my way," Dak blurted, hastily grabbing for his toolkit. "Catch you later, Commander, EDI."

"Traitor," he heard Shepard grumble as the door hissed closed behind him.

**oOoOo**

Miranda looked up from reading Shepard's after-action report as her door chime sounded. "Come in!" she called, setting the datapad down. The door hissed open to admit the Normandy's quartermaster, and Miranda had to bite back the urge to grin. The first time she'd ever met him had been… unforgettable. "Cal, what can I do for you?"

Niftu Cal waddled slowly into her office area, his breathing echoing hollowly from his suit. "I'm starting to put together a requisitions list for when we reach the Citadel," he wheezed. "If you could make sure the crew can provide me with their requests _before_ we dock, and not an hour before we leave, like last time, I'd appreciate it."

Miranda arched an eyebrow at him. "It was at least ninety minutes before we undocked, and in Commander Shepard's defence, it was critical to our ongoing mission to acquire the item in question."

Cal huffed. "I'm a businessman, so there's a lot about special operations and being a Spectre that doubtless I don't understand…" he sucked in a heavy, mechanized breath, "but really, Miranda, I fail to see how a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy can be considered as anything other than a luxury."

"It's classified, Cal, but trust me when I say the safety of the Normandy was at stake." There were few things in the galaxy more risky than taking on the Reapers, but it was Miranda's considered tactical opinion that raiding Dr. Chakwas's personal supplies was one of those things. Resupplying the missing bottle before the doctor noticed had, the raven-haired Spectre was sure, kept her and her wayward fellow operatives alive. But the risk had been worth it; it had been a _very_ good night.

The volus snorted. "For a supposed black operations specialist, you're a very poor liar." He tilted his head to one side. "Do you expect to need to requisition anything unusual this time, or will it be run of the mill supplies?"

"Adams would like a spare set of T-28 capacitor couplings, if you can find any," Miranda told him. "If the ones we have should break or get damaged and we run out of discharge buoys, we'd be looking at a massively extended trip home."

"I think we'd all like to avoid that scenario," the volus agreed. "It won't be easy, but I'll talk to my contacts. There's still a lot of scrap floating around the Sol system, maybe someone's been industrious enough to start trawling it for salvageable parts."

The door to the office hissed open again, and Shepard looked in. "Oh, hey, Cal, I didn't realise you were here. Miri, I can come back if you're in the middle of something?"

"No, it's fine, I'm done," Cal assured her. "Miranda, I'll thank you to take care of that request for me. _Before_ we dock."

"As you command, your holiness," Miranda agreed in a mocking tone.

Cal froze. His breathing mechanism cycled once, twice, three times in the sudden stillness, then he started walking again. "Commander," he acknowledged as he passed Shepard, who was staring at the ceiling in a desperate bid to not let the volus see her laughing.

As the doors slid shut behind him, Shepard met Miranda's gaze, eyes sparkling with amusement as she flopped into the chair in front of the desk. "Was that entirely necessary?" she asked insincerely, still chuckling.

"Well, you heard him, flinging orders around like some sort of…" Miranda paused, counted Shepard in with a raised finger, and finished her sentence along with the commander, "…biotic god."

Shepard snickered. "Is he still sore about the Ice Brandy incident?"

"Not as sore as _we_ would have been if Karin had caught us," Miranda shrugged.

"Yeah, no kidding. So, did you hear the news? About the election?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes, I did. I'm still not sure that it isn't some sort of joke. And not a particularly funny one."

"You don't know Saracino, do you?"

Miranda arched a disdainful eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

"I dunno, I thought maybe you might have met him once at one of your secret human supremacist parties."

"Christ, you really do think we had matching jackets and some sort of secret handshake, don't you?"

Shepard held up her hands, laughing again. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist yanking your chain. But seriously, he's a high-ranking Cerberus stooge, you were a high-ranking Cerberus operative, it's not that much of a stretch to imagine you might have crossed paths."

Miranda tilted her head. "True," she conceded, "but as it happens, I never met him. Thankfully. I can't imagine I would have liked him." She frowned as she tried to remember. "The Illusive Man didn't think very much of him. Called him a useful idiot, mostly. I think Jacob met him a few times – he mentioned it to me once or twice. I did do some political work for Cerberus at one time, but it was before Saracino started getting noticed within Terra Firma. And then, just after he got elected to their party leadership in response to humans joining the council, well…" she winked at Shepard, "my boss gave me a new project to work on that completely ruined my life."

Shepard chuckled. "I met the guy once, on the Citadel, and he seemed like a total jerk. I can't figure out how he managed to secure such a high percent of the vote."

"Opportunity and circumstance," Miranda shrugged. "He's not very bright, but the message he preaches resonates more with people in the current situation." She sighed. "Before the war he wouldn't have got any traction – there was too much political and economic benefit to being part of the wider galaxy. Even Cerberus were never advocates for out-and-out isolationism. But there's a powerful tribalism to the message of looking out for your own in times of hardship, and his spin doctors have made the most of it." She looked at Shepard closely, saw worry in her friend's deep green eyes. "Why has this got you worried? It's more than likely he'll shoot himself the foot before he has time to do any real damage. As I said, he's not that bright, and the fanatics he surrounds himself with aren't much smarter."

"I don't know, maybe I'm just overthinking it," Shepard muttered. "It doesn't make sense to me."

Miranda frowned. "I don't like to discount your instincts," she remarked. "You're usually on the money when you start with that old Jedi "I have a bad feeling about this" mind trick. That said," she spread her hands uncertainly, "it could well just be an extreme reaction to the state of the galaxy."

Shepard shrugged half-heartedly. "Maybe. I guess time will tell. And Liara's looking into it." She scratched at the back of her neck. "Anyway, is there anything you think needs particular attention while we're in dock and resupplying?"

Miranda called up her reports and glanced over them. "Nothing specific. Adams has a special requisitions request which I've approved, and Cal will see about securing it. Lieutenant Beauchene wants to recalibrate the Thanix missile targeting suite while we can validate the reference co-ordinates with C-Sec tactical command – I told him that was fine as long as he lets EDI check his figures."

"Lieutenant Beauchene has submitted his proposal to me for review," EDI chipped in. "His methodology appears sound."

"And… no, that's it, aside from still being two positions short." Miranda shot Shepard a questioning glance. "I thought you'd resolved that?"

"I did. We should be picking our last two crew up when we dock."

"In which case, I think we're good," Miranda concluded. "And I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to have Grunt back on board. I missed having a walking battering ram about the place."

Shepard chuckled as she got to her feet. "I think he'd take that as a compliment."

"No doubt." Miranda looked up at her boss. "Where are you heading?"

"Shuttle bay." Shepard rolled her shoulders. "I have a couple of kinks I want to work out."

"Fancy some company?" Miranda offered. "I could do with a little workout."

"Sure."


	8. Fractures

**Fractures**

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Citadel Approach Vector 21A, Sol System_

"Citadel Control, this is the GCV Normandy, Spectre Operations, requesting clearance to dock."

"Copy that, Normandy, welcome home. You are cleared to proceed to bay C ninety-four."

"Roger that, Citadel, C ninety-four. Nice to be back."

"Do you require ground transport?"

"I'll handle it."

"Understood, Normandy. Make your dock. Control out."

Shepard turned to Joker. "You heard the lady."

"Yeah," Joker agreed sourly. Shepard took a deep breath.

"Then take us in, please."

"For fuck's sake, I heard her, Shepard," Joker snapped irritably. "Do I stand about telling you how to do your job?"

"No, but..."

"Then how about you extend me the same fucking courtesy?"

"Mind your station, Lieutenant," Shepard bit out, turning on her heel and stalking down the bridge, avoiding Liara's gaze as she passed her bondmate at the neck of the CIC, furious at herself for letting Joker get under her skin so easily.

But she'd forgotten, as she occasionally did, that Liara had more direct methods at her disposal than simple eye contact.

_Rachel, are you all right?_ The asari's voice sounded in her mind, worried, sympathetic, and irritated, reflecting what Liara was feeling. She stopped, turned to meet Liara's gaze and took her hand, knowing that to respond in kind would mean she could not hide her emotions, but not willing to brush off her partner's well-intentioned concern.

_Not really. Not much I can do about it, though. I've said I'm sorry, but he doesn't want to forgive me. That's his privilege. I guess I just need to get over it._

Liara's gaze drifted over her shoulder, down the bridge to focus on the pilot, and Shepard felt a sudden spike of anger across their bond.

_Liara – it's not his fault._

_Well, that's a matter of opinion. But it's certainly not __**your**__ fault_, Liara replied, the thought edged with fierce conviction.

_Can we not… can we talk about this another time, please?_

Liara's gaze snapped back to meet hers, and she nodded. _Of course, Rachel. I'm sorry. I'll be in the war room when you're done._ She squeezed Shepard's hand gently, then withdrew from the link and walked away.

Shepard continued back to their cabin, changing from her shipboard BDUs into the slightly more formal dress jacket and pants she tended to wear when visiting the Presidium. Giving her appearance a quick once-over, she ran a hand through her hair, sighed, and headed back to the elevator. "Shepard to Lawson."

"Go ahead, Shep."

"I'm going to check in with the Council, report on this incident on Tuchanka. Anything else you think needs brought to their attention?"

"Not at the moment, unless there's any sort of connection to the op on Palaven?"

"Not that we've been able to determine."

"Then I guess it's business as usual for now. I'll start rotating the crew out on R and R. Since we'll be here for a few days waiting for that supply vessel coming in from Sur'Kesh, we might as well use the time."

"Absolutely. And we have our two new crew members joining us, exact transfer window from the fleet tbc. You could call Hackett and confirm that, if you get a minute."

"Will do."

"Thanks, Miri."

The docks were quiet, as they almost always were now – with so much of the galaxy still off the relay grid and so much resource being conserved to rebuild the shattered homeworlds of nearly every civilisation, there were not many ships making the journey to Sol. Even with half the docking ring out of commission, the supply traffic from Earth was nowhere near enough to fill even one quarter of the torus. It made for an eerie experience, walking through the deserted corridors, and Shepard wasted no time in making her way to the elevator. The Presidium would also be quieter than it should be, but at least the quiet there had an air of tranquility as opposed to the taint of neglect.

When she finally reached the Presidium, she picked up her brisk pace again as she made her way to the ambassadorial quarters, hoping to avoid any encounters with curious members of the public. The Council now held their meetings and conducted their business from their offices, since the grand chamber and the tower had been wrecked by the Crucible's detonation. Shepard was grateful for that; she found being on the Citadel trying enough without having to relive the events that had transpired in the tower over and over again.

Even as the thought formed, a memory flashed through her mind. _Lying on the deck, bleeding out, everything dark and fuzzy and far away. Admiral Hackett screaming in her ear, the overwhelming sense that she'd failed…_

Shivering, she pushed the recollection back, focused on counting the steps it took her to reach her destination. A salarian clerk was on duty at the reception desk, and he nodded a greeting as he recognised her. "Welcome back, Commander. The Council is in session. You can go in and wait. I'll alert them to your arrival."

"Thanks."

"Of course. Have a pleasant day."

One nice thing about the Council and their staff, Shepard reflected as she headed into the waiting area adjacent to the conference room, was that they never looked at her as though she was some kind of legend made flesh. They all knew her, they all respected her, but none of them treated her as anything other than a colleague or a friend, and that normality was precious to her. Ever since the end of the war, the Alliance government in particular had gone out of its way to laud her as a hero. Since she assuredly did not feel much like one, the constant praise and media attention had only served to make her averse to going out in public. It had been bad enough after they'd defeated Saren, but at least back then she'd felt like she'd achieved a victory, something unambiguously moral and correct. The defeat of the Reapers had been neither, and she found it hard to accept thanks or recognition for something she remained deeply conflicted about.

She was turning into a recluse; she couldn't remember the last time she'd simply gone out for a drink, and since Liara was also predisposed to being antisocial, there was no real drive for her to tackle the problem. Oddly, she hadn't felt the same public pressure on Palaven, Thessia, or Tuchanka – likely because there were fewer people who recognised her, or if they did, they looked at her in a different way. Case in point being the warriors of clan Urdnot, who were far more interested in her exploits combatting thresher maws than any of the Saviour of the Galaxy crap, which was ironic given that her contribution to saving the krogan from extinction was about the one thing she did feel proud of. But human-dominated cities and ports made her want to hide in her cabin. _Maybe I just need to bite the bullet, get out there more. Maybe it's like jumping into cold water – once you get over the anticipation and the initial shock, it won't be so bad. Maybe you're making this a bigger issue than it really is_.

"Shepard!"

An electronic-edged voice pulled Shepard from her introspection, and she offered a smile and a polite half-bow to the quarian male hurrying toward her. "_Keelah'selai_, Councillor Koris. It's good to see you, sir."

"That's a bit formal, don't you think, _Commander_?" Zaal'Koris chuckled as he clasped her wrist. "It's good to see you too, my friend. Are you well?"

"I can't complain. How are things on Rannoch?"

"Fraught," Koris sighed. "Without the geth to assist, it's slow going, and that's causing a lot of frustration."

Shepard grimaced. "You're no closer to resolving the question?"

"No. Gerrel may be on his deathbed, but he's clinging to his stubborn pride as tenaciously as he clings to life. And Xen's no better, with her desire to experiment."

"You'd think she'd have learned from Rael'Zorah, really."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Koris agreed. "If we are to restore the geth to life, they must be restored, as far as we can, to what they were, and then left to continue on their own way, an organic evolution, if you will. They should never be our slaves, but that is what Xen would make of them." He shook his head sadly. "And Danna is afraid of the ramifications, preferring that we acknowledge their existence, honour their sacrifice, and move on. So they are deadlocked, two against, two for, and one abstaining unless she's given the right to play god." He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "When Gerrel dies, Raan will have to make sure the Admiralty board is balanced - make sure whoever is appointed will stand up to Xen's bullying. Danna is, regrettably, not cut from the same cloth as the others. Sometimes I wonder if I should ever have left."

Shepard reached out to grip his shoulder. "Tali has your corner on the geth question, and so does Admiral Shala'Raan. You're a peacemaker and a diplomat, sir. You're absolutely the right man to represent the Quarians on this Council, there's no doubt in my mind of that. You bring honour to the office, more than Gerrel, Xen, or even Raan ever could. More than Udina ever did either, come to that."

"Thank you, Shepard. That means a lot coming from you." Koris patted her hand awkwardly. "I know you suffer a burden of guilt for the geth, but you shouldn't blame yourself for what's happening now. You were correct to judge that they _could_ be saved. It's hardly your fault that we find ourselves unable to agree that they should be."

"Isn't it a council matter rather than a species one?"

Koris chuckled dryly. "I've tried that tack. Tevos and Bakara agree with me, but Esheel, Sparatus, and Rossikovsky do not, and that is how democracy works, I'm afraid."

"Rossikovsky's blocking you?" Shepard was somehow surprised at that.

"Vehemently. Apparently he had family on Eden Prime."

Shepard sighed. "Hard to argue with that as good grounds."

"Indeed." Koris nodded to her. "But I'm not giving up, and for the moment, at least, it's not something you need to worry about."

"Thank you, Koris," Shepard acknowledged gratefully. "I appreciate everything that you're doing."

"After all you've done, Shepard, it's the least the rest of us can do to try and better ourselves, I'd say," the old quarian chuckled. "We're doing the best that we can. And, please," he gestured to the door, "try to remember that when we go in. Esheel currently has the floor."

Shepard winced. "Really?"

Koris blew out a short, huffed laugh. "Oh yes. I'm out here to greet you because I beat the others on the draw, but my reprieve is to be all too brief, it seems." He clapped her shoulder encouragingly. "Be brave, Commander Shepard. Be _unspeakably_ brave."

* * *

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Docked, Citadel, Sol System_

Karin Chakwas did not look up as the door to the medbay hissed open, focused as she was on completing her supply requisition. Some of what she was looking for was scarce, even for Spectre requisitions, and if she wanted Cal to make the purchases he'd need as much information as possible to source things.

Whoever had stopped in didn't disturb her, letting her finish what she was doing, and Karin was not surprised, when she finally looked up, to see her guest was Liara. The asari had taken a seat on the bed nearest the door her and busied herself with her omni-tool. "Liara? Did you need me for something, dear?"

Liara shut down her tool and looked up, a troubled expression marring her pretty features. "I… I find myself in need of some perspective," she began. "That is, if you have a moment?"

"Of course." Karin hit the button on her interface that locked the medbay door. "What's on your mind?" She doubted, somehow, that this was work related.

"Joker," Liara admitted.

"Ah."

"I overheard him talking to Shepard earlier. I know they have been having difficulties, but…" The asari shook her head. "I had no idea he was still so hostile."

"He's very angry," Karin said sadly. "And Shepard still feels guilty enough about EDI to let him be." And you see how badly it hurts Shepard, so you're angry at Joker."

"I am," Liara admitted. "Goddess, I understand his pain only too well, but I cannot bear to watch him hurt Rachel. After all…" she bit her lip and looked away.

"After all?"

"Nothing, never mind." Liara shook her head. "It was an unkind thought, one I would prefer not to give voice to."

"You don't still hate him for getting Shepard killed?" Karin guessed.

"I never _hated_ him," Liara protested. "Yes, I was angry at him. Yes, I blamed him. But when I saw him at his court martial, I pitied him. There was no use in hating him. It would not have brought Shepard back."

"But you're not Joker," Karin pointed out. "It may seem trite and obvious to say, but he is a very different character to you. You are quick to trust, quick to love, quick to forgive, if perhaps not quick to forget." The doctor took a pensive breath. "It takes Joker a long time to trust anyone, even longer to admit that he has feelings, even those of simple friendship. He has been burned by his experiences over the years, experiences that have taught him that he will always be abandoned. It's part of the reason he is so adamantly determined to never leave anyone behind. He wanted to go back for Kaidan, he couldn't abandon the Normandy, he didn't want to leave Shepard back on Earth. He trusted Shepard, likely more than he has ever trusted anyone, and he feels betrayed. Since he trusted her so much, it hurt him that she put other people's welfare before his, and before that of someone he loved."

Liara grimaced. "And that's what Rachel takes to heart. She believes she betrayed him, the same as she believes she betrayed EDI, and the geth, the same as she believes she let down every single soul she couldn't save." Liara shook her head despondently. "I spoke to Garrus about this once, just after we picked him up from Menae. He asked me how she was doing, and I remember I told him that what I feared most wasn't losing her to death, it was losing her to her guilt. And it so nearly happened." Liara sighed heavily. "Do you remember when we rescued Miranda from Sanctuary?"

Chakwas nodded. "Shepard was exhausted, if I recall."

"It was more than that. She collapsed in her cabin." Liara's expression as she met the doctor's gaze was distilled pain. "She was so very nearly lost, Karin. She cracked; the weight of the responsibility and the fear of failure was about to break her, and she was panic-stricken. I was able to pull her back…"

"How?" Karin asked, intrigued. She hadn't heard about this.

"A deep meld, one that let me divert her adrenaline from panic to… a more positive impulse." Liara's cheeks coloured slightly as she explained.

"You can do that?" Karin exclaimed in surprise. "Alter someone's emotions?"

"Not generally speaking, no. It is not an easy thing to accomplish." Liara thought for a moment. "It requires an absolute knowledge of the person as well as a very deep meld. Their trust in you must be unqualified and instinctual, as must their physical reaction. Since sex is by far the most effective driver of such emotions and reactions, it follows that the applicability of the method to general treatment is limited. In short, it can only work between lovers." The asari sighed. "I am straying from the point. I do not want Rachel to run the risk of such a breakdown happening again, and Joker's attitude is having a profoundly detrimental effect on her. But I do not know if I should confront him directly; it might simply make matters worse."

Karin sat back in her chair as she considered the question. "It's not an easy decision. It might indeed aggravate things, but even that, I would say, would be an improvement. You're not the first to question Joker's attitude. I've had to talk Miranda down from tearing strips off him at least twice; she sees things the same way you do, albeit with less empathy for Joker's feelings. But it's clear that neither he nor Shepard are benefitting from their situation. Joker needs help, but he needs to able to admit to himself that he needs it. Shepard is getting help, but Joker in his present frame of mind gives voice to her guilt in a tangible form, so his response is a constant setback, because every time they talk she hopes for something to give, for some glimmer that they can have the relationship they had before. And when it doesn't…" Karin sighed. "It adds another little hurdle on the road to recovery."

Liara nodded, tears in her eyes, and Karin got up to enfold her in a gentle hug. "You're right to want to help," she assured the asari. "It will just continue to fester if they don't address it. And if you can't get Shepard to start the conversation…"

"She won't," Liara said heavily. "Or at least, not in a manner that will provoke a discussion. She'll just apologise – again – and Jeff will say it's not enough and he's not interested. They've been round that circuit at least six times."

"Well then," Karin offered. "Maybe it is time for you to try. You've gotten through to him before – maybe he'll listen to you again."

"We can hope," Liara agreed. "Thank you, Karin. I needed someone to hear me out."

"Anytime, Liara. Anytime."

* * *

_Ashore, Citadel, Sol System _

Shepard relaxed, let out a long, slow breath, then stopped breathing altogether as her finger tightened around the trigger, squeezing smoothly. A deep bass crack echoed down the range as the Black Widow fired, and the heavy sniper rifle reared ceilingward under the recoil.

"Boom! The quarterback is _toast_!" The C-Sec officer assigned to Spectre Headquarters as quartermaster grinned like a schoolboy. "Perfect ten. So, what do you think, Commander?"

"It's still too heavy." Shepard shook her head as she set it down. "I can feel the difference the mods make, but the kick and recoil still make it too slow to reacquire your targets. As an extreme range weapon it probably has no equal, but for mid-range infantry engagements, it's just too cumbersome. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like my Viper back, please."

"Better do as she says," a new voice interjected lightly. "She's been known to be a grouch when you take her favourite toys away."

Shepard grinned as she turned away from the range. "That's a little rich coming from you, ain't it?"

Ashley Williams laughed as she threw her arms wide and stepped in to wrap Shepard in a bear hug. "Guilty as charged. Damn, it's good to see you, Skipper."

"You too, Ash. You're looking good. How've you been?"

"Great." Ashley leaned casually on the safety rail, managing to look graceful while wearing a full hardsuit. Not an Alliance issue one either, Shepard judged from the patterning; black plate with vertical stripes up the arms and two thinner stripes up the chestplate, all in a vivid wasp yellow.

"New suit?"

Ash grinned. "Yeah, well, I thought, since I'm working with a new partner, and sometimes I'll be in places where an Alliance association might be unwelcome, I might as well take the opportunity to finally get some decent gear." She rolled one arm over to inspect a vambrace. "I got it coloured to match Bau's. I wanted to make a good impression, show him I take this partner thing seriously."

"It looks a good suit, what is it, a Rosenkov?"

"Aegohr Munitions," Ash supplied. "Sur'Kesh wasn't as hard hit as Earth or Thessia or Palaven, so the supply chains there are a lot better, if you can find the eezo to make the trip. And since we were there anyway, it made sense." She looked Shepard up and down. "Say, you're looking a lot better than last time I saw you."

"Thanks. I've had some down time, and Karin's been keeping an eye on me."

"You do need keeping an eye on," Ashley chuckled. "So how come you're hiding down here?"

"Just decompressing a bit. I'm not long done reporting to the Council."

"Oh God, they get worse with every session, I swear. They all have to make their substantive contribution, and then Sparatus disagrees with Esheel, then Koris backs her, and Rossikovsky sucks up to Sparatus, and then before you know it three hours have gone by, Bakara's walked out in disgust, and Tevos looks like she wants to just flatten the joint with a warp. And you're standing there praying for a meteor strike, because a quick death would at least get the fuckin' thing over with."

Shepard chuckled. "I hear ya." She was glad to see Ash so comfortable. They'd had a long, frank talk shortly after Shepard's release from hospital, in which Shepard had, with some reluctance, stated her opinion that Ash would be better off taking a position not associated with the Normandy.

_"__You're already a Spectre in your own right, Ash, and you've gone beyond being just a marine, being someone else's fire-team buddy. You don't want to be my shadow forever – you can be so much more than that if you want to try."_

_"__If you don't want me on the Normandy, Shepard, all you have to do is say," Ash rejoined forlornly._

_"__Shit, Ash, that's _not_ what this is about. If this was about me, I'd have you on my boat in a heartbeat, and if that's what you truly want, of _course_ there's a place for you, that goes without saying. But if you want to learn, if you want to improve and develop your skills, I'm not the one who can teach you. Are you really going to stand there and tell me that the best you want for yourself is to be my sidekick? You can do better. I know you can. I want you to."_

_Ash raised one eyebrow at her. "You're not going to start crying on me, are you, Mom?"_

_"__You wish," Shepard chuckled, then she gripped Ash by the shoulders. "I'm damn proud of you, Ash. You've achieved so much. But you can do more. Don't sell yourself short, is all I'm asking. Learn a different way of doing things. Learn two, then assess what works for you and make it your own. You're not me, you can't learn to be. And I shouldn't be your only teacher."_

_Ash nodded, quickly averting her gaze as she dashed the back of her hand across her eyes, and they started talking about other things. _

Two days later, Ash had called to say she'd talked to the salarian Spectre, Jondam Bau, who was looking for a new partner, and that she'd accepted his offer to take her on. Shepard had been thrilled. Bau was solid, a good Spectre with a level head and a wealth of experience, exactly the sort of mentor Shepard herself would have liked, and exactly the right sort of person to take on Ash's impatience and hot temper. And from the sound of things, the arrangement was working out. "Bau treating you OK?"

"Yeah," Ash nodded emphatically, "he's a good guy. Doesn't flap, doesn't panic, gets things done. Never thought I'd say this, but I'm enjoying working without the chain of command, too. It's nice that we can just take off whenever we need to, without needing everything in triplicate."

"Yeah, with the ship I can't get away with that so easily. But that was pretty much the only thing I liked about operating with Cerberus – Miranda handled all of the bureaucracy." Shepard grinned. "Come to think of it… yeah, that still works for me."

Ash's grin slipped slightly at the mention of the Normandy's XO, but Shepard ignored it; the friction between her two friends was something they would have to fix for themselves. In the privacy of her own mind, Shepard considered that most of issue could be traced to Ash's lingering prejudices and insecurities, but Miranda had not really helped the situation by being... well, Miranda. Still, Shepard was sure her choice had been the right one. Ash was the superior combat soldier, but Miranda had a wealth of experience the younger woman lacked, and surpassed her as a manager, as a naval tactician, and as a bigger-picture thinker, necessary traits for someone whose primary responsibility was ship command. "Anyway," she pushed on, breaking the slightly awkward silence, "are you here for long?"

Ash shook her head ruefully. "Shipping out this afternoon," she replied. "We're getting reports of attacks on the shipping lanes out of Cyone - it's possible someone's trying to set up a black market operation on the back of the fuel thefts. We're going to check it out." She cocked her head. "Any chance Liara's heard anything about it?"

"I'd say the odds are good she's got something - give her a call and she'll get you anything she can."

"Great. That'll really help." Ash looked at her omni-tool as it chirped, and sighed. "I have to run. Never seems to be enough time, does there, Skipper?"

"You said it." Shepard spread her arms. "C'mere." She engulfed Ash in a hug. "Watch yourself out there, OK?"

"Always do, Skipper. Same goes for you. See you soon." Ash hugged back forcefully, then, with a grin and a sloppy salute, she was gone.

* * *

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Docked, Citadel, Sol System_

Liara took a deep breath as she hesitated just aft of the cockpit door, then stepped forward purposefully, over the threshold and into Joker's domain. Even though they were fast to the dock, Joker hadn't left his post, and with most of the CIC crew stood down, it was the best opportunity Liara would have for a private conversation with the pilot.

Joker glanced around as he heard her footfalls on the deckplates. "Hey, Liara."

"Hello, Jeff. I was wondering if I could speak with you? Regarding a personal matter?"

"Sure, Blue, what's on your mind?" Joker turned his seat slightly, and Liara perched uncomfortably on the auxiliary station.

_Here goes nothing_. "When are you going to give Rachel a break?"

"_Excuse_ me?" The pilot swung his chair around fully to face the asari, clearly stung by the accusation in her tone.

"You know what I am talking about," Liara dismissed his protest brusquely. "Your behaviour towards her is borderline, if not openly, hostile."  
"And what are you, the camp counsellor?" Joker sniped.

Liara frowned. "I don't understand that reference, Joker." She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. "Please don't. I'll look it up later. I am here as Rachel's bondmate, because I am worried about her. And as your friend, because I am worried about you."

"I'm fine, Liara, and so's your hero of a wife. Just peachy, the pair of us."

"No, you're not," Liara rebutted his statement with quiet determination. "I heard you speaking to her this afternoon. I've known you for a long time, Jeff, and I've never known you to be so unfriendly towards anyone you serve with. What did she do that has made you hate her?"

Joker glowered at her. "Oh, gee, I dunno. Maybe something about a certain choice she made on the Citadel that meant other people had to bear the cost of defeating the Reapers?"

Liara stared at him, incredulous. "Are you calling her a _coward_? After everything she's done?"

"You know what? Maybe I am!" Joker shot back. "She had a choice, Liara! There was more than one way to end the war, and she chose to kill EDI and wipe out the geth."

"Please don't insult my intelligence by pretending you care about the fate of the geth as anything more than an abstract," Liara retorted. "Let's be honest. This is about you and EDI, nothing else."

"You're damn right it is!" Joker shouted, his voice cracking. "EDI wasn't consulted. I wasn't consulted. Shepard decided to play God, decided that she knew best. And then she got to walk away, no harm, no foul, and EDI had to bear the cost of her choice!"

"No harm? She was in a coma for six weeks!" Liara felt her cheeks heating, a sure sign she was losing control of her temper. "If Miranda had not been there to lend her aid, she would have died. Again." That hit the mark, and Joker flinched. Liara bored in, pressing her advantage. "Of all the people in this galaxy, Jeff, I'd think you would best understand what it feels like to have your choices result in a comrade's death. And how it feels to have to look their loved ones in the eye afterwards."

Joker flushed, but he set his jaw stubbornly. "And you were pissed as hell at me, Liara, so where do you get off lecturing me about it?"

"Yes, I was angry at you for a while, but I forgave you. Rachel forgave you. Because blaming you for it solved nothing - it certainly didn't make me feel any better, and it could never have brought her back. EDI's forgiven her - why can't you?" Liara glared at him. "Is it because she chose saving as much of the galaxy as she could over your happiness?"

Joker looked away. "There had to have been another way," he repeated mulishly.

"For the love of the Goddess, Joker, if you believe that to be true, then tell me, _what would you have done in her place_?" Liara demanded. "How would you have done it differently? If you had stood at the Crucible's controls, dying from your injuries, alone, with no one to guide you, no hope of rescue? Would you have trusted the word of the Reaper's creator and tried to take control of them, or forced a merger of all organic and synthetic life on everyone in the galaxy _without consulting them_? Or, if you'd known that my life, or Tali's," Joker flinched, "and the extinction of our race along with us was the cost of victory, the price to be paid to prevent the deaths of _every other living being in this galaxy_, could you have made that choice? When you knew already, from our own mouths, that we would willingly give our lives to achieve that end?" Liara took a deep breath as Joker stubbornly refused to look up. "Answer me, Joker," she commanded flatly. "What would you have done? Said a prayer for Tali? Whispered apology to me?"

"Fuck this," Joker spat. "Get out of my fucking cockpit, Liara."

"No," Liara refused. "Not until you extend me the simple courtesy of answering my question." She folded her arms across her chest. "What would you have done, Joker?"

"I don't fucking _know_, all right?" Joker snarled, tears streaming down his face. "How could I?"

"Exactly. And you don't know how it feels to have to live with that choice."

"Oh yeah, and you do?"

"Yes I do!" Liara snapped back, riled to anger at last, her own eyes stinging with tears. "I've seen her memories, relived them with her, over and over again. I've seen the scars on her body and her soul. I've seen what they those memories do to her while she sleeps, heard her scream until her voice breaks. I've seen the panic attacks, the waking recollections, the agony of guilt that she suffers, the burden she shoulders because no one else had the courage or the ability to take it on. Because no one else, not me, not you, not anyone in _the entire galaxy_ dared to step up and say 'you've done enough, Shepard, let me handle this.' And _anyone_ else who'd stood where we asked her to… _begged_ her to… would not have thought twice about switching off one more AI." Liara flicked a glance to the ceiling. "You know I don't think of you that way, EDI, but many people do."

"I know, Liara," EDI acknowledged. Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to fill the cockpit. "Jeff... Liara is correct. I am still here, I am continuously improving, and I believe Shepard made the right choice. Your anger has changed you, and the change is not an improvement."

"You keep out of this, EDI," Joker growled. "You don't remember the half of what you've lost. I do."

"You saw how much losing Kaidan to the same choice hurt Rachel, Jeff," Liara said, suddenly tired. "You had to know she would punish herself for doing the same thing to EDI. And don't you dare try and tell me that she considered EDI to be less a member of her crew because she is synthetic. Just think about it, is all I ask. I know how much it hurts to lose someone. And I know how uncertain it feels when you have them returned to you when the nature of one of you has changed. But please, think about everything she's done for you, for EDI, for everyone. Think about where you would be now if she hadn't trusted you, if she didn't love you." She stepped toward the door to the cockpit. "Rachel would never ask you to forgive her, because she hasn't forgiven herself, and if you have a legitimate reason to still be angry after all this time, I respect that, and I hope that you will let her know why, even if only as a simple courtesy. But if you are refusing to back down because you can't admit that you were wrong, because it's easier than dealing with your own feelings and pain, then I suggest you consider whether there really is a future for you here. Because I am no longer prepared to stand idly by and let you hurt her with your selfishness. Good day, Mr. Moreau."


	9. Home Truths

**Home Truths**

_Alliance Military Headquarters Command, Spokane, UNAS, Earth_

"All ashore!" Steve Cortez called cheerfully as he set the shuttle down on the landing pad. "Pick up is same time tomorrow, same place."

Liara thumped the door release and the Kodiak's hatch slid open. Grabbing her bag, she waved a farewell to the pilot as she jumped down, followed a few seconds later by Shepard. The human shut the hatch, then hammered on the door to let Cortez know they were clear.

"OK," she said as soon as the roar of the departing shuttle's engines had faded, "after we get done with this meeting with the military council we'll have a few hours to kill before we meet Mom. Is there anything in particular you'd like to do?"

Liara shrugged uncertainly as she looked around. "Remind me where we are?"

"Spokane," Shepard supplied. "It's the biggest town close to Vancouver that's still relatively intact. It has enough of an infrastructure to support the temporary government headquarters while they rebuild the main complexes."

"So, what is there to do in Spokane?"

"I have no idea," Shepard admitted cheerfully. "I guess we can go do a little exploring. There's probably a museum around here somewhere."

"Sounds like a plan," Liara smiled. "Are we still in Canada, if we're close to Vancouver?"

"No. Vancouver's a little under five hundred kilometres from here. This is Washington state, part of the United States Territory, the central part of the UNAS." Shepard waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the grove of trees screening the space port to their right. "The cabin's about seven hundred klicks that way."

Liara smiled at the thought of the Shepard family retreat on the shore of Clearwater Lake. After Shepard had been discharged from hospital they had taken up residence at the cabin for a few months, allowing Rachel the time and space to recuperate properly in a place where she felt safe, comfortable, and shielded from the public eye. Liara had fallen head over heels in love with the location: the towering, snow-capped mountains ringing the lake; the myriad shades of blue and turquoise in the mirror calm, crystal-clear water; the verdant greens and the cool crisp scent of the pine forests. Most of all, she'd fallen in love with the idyllic pace of life they'd adopted, swimming in the lake, walking in the mountains, sitting up late into the night just talking before the open fire, learning more about each other in a dozen different ways every day.

Getting married.

It hadn't been a very grand affair, in the end. Shepard had originally said that she wanted something public, to show the world what Liara meant to her, but in the aftermath of the war, it hadn't seemed right to flaunt the good fortune that had been denied to so many others. The shot to the ten ring that had put the idea down for good had been the spectre of political interference. It was hard enough for Shepard to accept that she had been designated the heroic figurehead of the triumph over the Reapers, but she was vehemently opposed to the idea of that role taking over her private affairs. So they'd quietly grabbed Hannah, Aethyta, Tali, Garrus, Ash, Miranda, and Karin, hustled them out to the cabin one weekend, and in the presence of their dearest friends and family, sworn their vows to one another and exchanged rings. Tali had presided in her capacity as Admiral of the Quarian fleet, Shepard had kissed her blushing bride (the blush provided courtesy of said bride's father), and they'd partied late into the evening before Steve had showed up and ferried their guests home, leaving the newlyweds to their own devices. Which, as it turned out, had consisted of Shepard falling asleep on the couch before the shuttle had even lifted off, wrung out from a day of overexertion and having more than one glass of alcohol, and Liara (after snapping a few incriminating photos of her new wife catching flies) snuggling up beside her until she too fell asleep. They'd made up for lost time with the consummation the following morning.

Cheered by the memory, the asari turned to her bondmate. "All right then. Which way to headquarters?"

Shepard consulted her omni-tool, then pointed down the street. "This way. C'mon, the sooner we see the council, the sooner we can go exploring."

* * *

_GCV Normandy SR-2, Docked, the Citadel_

Joker woke with a start, groaning as pain suffused his whole body. "What the shit?" he muttered as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"Good afternoon, Jeff." EDI sounded as disgustingly bright and chirpy as ever. "You slept in the cockpit all night."

"Yeah, no kidding." He groaned as he sat up. "What the hell happened to me?"

"I can only provide incomplete information. You left the ship shortly after your conversation with Liara, and when you returned you showed signs of extreme inebriation. You declined to return to your bunk in the crew quarters, and fell asleep in your chair. I adjusted the settings to provide the maximum horizontal declination possible while avoiding the risk that, were you to vomit, you could choke to death."

"You're all heart."

"Have you thought any more regarding Liara's concerns?"

"No, and you keep out of that. It's nothing to do with you."

"Liara and Shepard are my friends, Jeff, as you are. And your contention is erroneous. Since my deactivation by the Crucible is the cause of your discontent, it follows that this situation is certainly to do with me."

Joker rested his forearm over his eyes. "I'm not discussing this with you. I didn't want to discuss it with Liara, either."

"She appears to be angry with you."

"Whoopee-fucking-do, EDI, is that supposed to make me just forget everything that happened? Oh, wow, better just let the whole thing go. Liara's pissed at you, and that's not acceptable."

EDI was silent for a few seconds, then spoke with none of her usual warmth. "Logging you out, Jeff."

"What? Aw, EDI c'mon, there's no need to… ah dammit, why the hell do I even bother?"

"I've wondered that myself," a cultured English voice remarked from behind him, making him jump.

"Christ, Doc!" he exclaimed. "Can you, I dunno, put a bell on or something? You just about gave me a heart attack."

Karin Chakwas arched one refined eyebrow at the request, but did not deign to reply. "You missed your appointment. Again. And so the mountain has come to Mohammed." She set her field bag on the co-pilot's chair, opening it and starting to rummage through it.

"Can't this wait, Doc?"

"No. It's already waited too long while you had your little temper tantrum."

Joker glared at her. "You too? When is everyone going to stop treating me like a kid?"

"Perhaps when you stop acting like one," Chakwas retorted coolly. "Now sit still while I do this." She helped him reposition the chair, then rolled up his sleeve to expose his bicep, her touch gentle in spite of her critical tone. "Now," she continued as she pressed the first hypospray to his arm, "I'm going to seize my opportunity to lecture you while I have you captive. But before I do that, let's start with a question. Of the three Spectres currently assigned to this vessel, which on frightens you the most?"

Joker frowned at the ceiling. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humour an old biddy, would you?"

Joker rolled his eyes. "Fine." He thought it over. "Miranda. Miranda scares the shit out of me."

"And second?"

"Liara."

"So Shepard is the least frightening?"

"Yeah." Joker frowned again. "Yeah, I guess. What are you getting at?"

"Miranda and Liara are angry at you over your treatment of Shepard, while Shepard herself is not." The doctor depressed the trigger on the hypospray. "Even discounting any other context, is basic self-preservation not sufficient motivation to make you carefully consider your course of action?"

Joker stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Yeah, when you put it like that, it does sound pretty stupid," he admitted, and Dr. Chakwas smiled fondly.

"Oh, so you _are_ still in there," she remarked. "Jeff, my boy, we're all worried about you, you know."

"Liara's pissed at me," Joker parried. "I mean, not just pissed, but _pissed_, if you know what I'm saying."

"She is," the doctor agreed. "In fact it would be fair to say that she's angrier at you now than she was after Alchera."

Guilt gnawed at the pit of Joker's stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it. "But I'm not allowed to be angry at Shepard, is that it?"

"Not at all." Chakwas regarded him with compassion in her eyes. "But Jeff, Shepard's decision on the Crucible wasn't about you or EDI. It was a decision made to try and save as many lives as possible. That it would cause untold grief was unavoidable, and that some lives would be asked in order to secure freedom and a future for the majority – well, that's part of the decision you make when you elect to serve in the military."

"EDI didn't make that choice."

"I beg to differ, my boy. I heard her say on numerous occasions that she would volunteer her life to stop the Reapers." The doctor cocked her head to one side. "Regardless of that, I can't tell you what your opinion should be, or how you should feel about what happened. What I can tell you is that I'm not prepared to keep extending you the benefit of the doubt for your behaviour."

"_My_ behaviour?" Joker repeated incredulously.

"Yes. It's time for you to make a decision, Jeff. You can decide that you want to stay, and make an effort to bridge the gulf between you and Shepard, or you can decide to leave to seek your future elsewhere. What you cannot decide to do is remain here and continue this petulant, childish nursing of a grievance for the sake of hurting someone who was…and still is…your friend." Chakwas' gaze was challenging. "You're a better man than that, Jeff, I firmly believe that. Shepard died to save your life, and she'd do it again without thinking twice, because she cares very deeply for you. The fact that she does has given you enormous power to hurt her, and you've used that power indiscriminately over the past six months because you are angry with her and angry about many other things. Never once have you even tried, as her friend, to see things from her point of view, or to extend her the benefit of the doubt for her actions. "

Joker was silent for a moment as he thought it over. "Why did she even tell me?" he asked eventually, bitterly. "If she'd never said anything…"

"Jeff," Chakwas reproved him gently, "do you really think Shepard would be able to live with the burden of such a secret? Would you?" She packed up her gear meticulously, then favoured him with a measured gaze. "Think it over carefully, Jeff. No one's disputing your right to grieve, but for your own well-being and for Shepard's, this stand-off has to stop."

"But why do I have to be the one to make the first move?" Joker whined, unwilling to concede entirely.

Chakwas' calm gaze became a frown. "Because Shepard has apologized enough to you, young man, and it's time you grew up a little and accepted responsibility for the situation you've created. And if you can't find the courage and compassion to do that, Jeff, then you're not the man I thought you were, and I will have no compunction about ensuring that your next conversation on this topic will be with Miranda."

Jeff winced. "There's no need to deploy the nuclear option, Doc," he protested. "I'll think about it, OK?"

"Think quickly," Chakwas advised, patting his shoulder as she turned to leave. "Think quickly."

* * *

_Alliance Military Headquarters Command, Spokane, UNAS, Earth_

"I'm sorry, babe, I guess we're going to have to save the exploring till next time."

Liara chuckled at Rachel's hangdog expression. "It's fine. I did a little reading while we were waiting."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "They're almost as bad as the Council. I thought we'd never get free."

Liara nodded grim agreement. The Alliance military council had kept them waiting for half an hour, then kept them in the meeting for an hour longer than scheduled, mostly as spectators while they debated the details of the new information the two Spectres had presented on the indoctrination situations on Palaven and Tuchanka. It had taken a pointedly loud comm alert on Liara's omni-tool (covertly sent by Shepard) to get them out of the conference room, and now they just about had enough time to walk across the town centre to meet Hannah, but no time for side trips.

"Well, now we know that for next time," Liara offered as they started walking. "Which way are we headed?"

Shepard pointed down the street to the left. "That way about eight blocks, then we hang a left and walk along the park boundary a ways. Shouldn't take too long."

Liara nodded, falling into step with her bondmate. They walked in easy silence, Liara looking around with a great deal of interest. She hadn't spent much time in human cities, and she was always keen to experience new places.

It was a beautiful day, and the city was perfectly pleasant, but as they walked Liara began to feel a little uneasy. She wasn't quite sure why, but her instincts were telling her something was off about the situation. She slowed her pace slightly, looking around more carefully, trying to identify what was bothering her. There was no air traffic, and the ground traffic was sparse, only occasional commercial vehicles trundling past. There were a good number of pedestrians, civilians for the most part, and many of them were staring. That wasn't all that unusual; Shepard cut a recognizable figure, after all, especially in a military-dominated setting where serving personnel knew who she was.

_But these are civilians. And they're not staring at her. They're staring at me._

She looked again, realized that everyone she could see was human. There was no one from any other species in sight. And while some of the looks she was getting were simply curious, a few were distinctly hostile.

_Goddess, could it really be that simple?_

"Hey, you still with me?"

Liara started as Shepard's question jerked her out of her introspection. "What? Oh, yes, I was just realizing why I was finding this place so odd."

Shepard frowned. "How d'you mean, odd?"

"There aren't any people from other species around," Liara pointed out. "I only just figured it out."

Shepard looked around slowly, studying the flow of the crowd around them. "Now that you mention it, no, there aren't," she agreed. "I hadn't really noticed." She smiled sheepishly. "Anthropocentric bag of dicks that I am. Is it bothering you?"

"Not bothering me, precisely, but it's a little unsettling," Liara admitted.

"We could call a cab," Shepard suggested.

"It's fine," Liara declined, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm just being irrational."

"Well, you're allowed to be irrational, Li."

"That's as may be," Liara conceded, "but I have a reputation to consider. If word gets out I can be irrational, well, there could be all manner of consequences."

"Your secret is safe with me," Shepard whispered dramatically as she gave Liara a quick squeeze, "but really, if you want to head someplace where there's a bit more diversity..."

"No, I'd like to just get over it, and staying will help. You could hold my hand, if you wanted to provide reassurance."

Shepard smiled, lacing her fingers with Liara's and swinging their arms exaggeratedly. "Like this?"

Liara laughed, putting some extra weight into the backswing and tugging Shepard toward her, stealing a kiss as they bumped together. "Exactly like that, yes."

Rachel laughed. "God, I love you," she offered. "I still can't believe I got this lucky."

Liara sighed in contentment as they began to walk again. "The feeling's mutual, Rachel, I assure you."

They started walking again, but they'd barely covered fifty metres when a voice hailed them from behind. "Commander? Commander Shepard!"

Shepard sighed as nearly everyone around them turned to stare. "Oh fabulous," she grumbled. "So much for incognito."

"I'm thinking I might buy you some kind of disguise," Liara jibed dryly, giving her bondmate's hand a reassuring squeeze as she felt her grip tighten with tension. "Perhaps a clever head covering, something to obscure your facial features – like a hat?"

"Funny," Shepard groused as she turned to face the man who was hurrying to intercept them. "Yes, sir, can I help you?"

"I'm so glad I caught you, Commander. Bernard Worthington, Director of Protocol for the Office of the Prime Minister. Delighted to meet you in person, finally."

"Oh, yes, of course." Shepard accepted the handshake with a smile Liara recognized as forced. "Mr. Worthington, my bondmate, Liara T'Soni."

"A pleasure." Worthington inclined his head a fraction, but made no move to shake hands. Liara waited a moment, and when he kept his hand down she simply smiled politely in response, adopting the neutral expression Shepard referred to as her 'Nos Astra face.'

"Charmed," she murmured coolly.

"So, what can I do for the Office of the Prime Minister?" Shepard asked, bristling even as she cut to the chase.

"The Prime Minister is hosting an informal reception tomorrow evening, a chance for the new members of government and some of our strategic industry partners to meet key figures from our military. We hadn't received word that you were going to be on Earth, so this is a little last minute, for which I must apologise. The Prime Minister requests the pleasure of your company, perhaps accompanied by one or two of your officers?"

Shepard turned to Liara. "What do you think, Liara?" Dread glinted in her eyes. "Fancy an evening of schmoozing with the great and the good?"

_I can't imagine anything I'd like to do less._ Hoping her expression had remained a polite smile rather than a grimace, she was about to reply when the option of agreeing was taken from her.

"I'm sorry, Commander," Worthington cut in, now eyeing Liara with clear distaste, "you misunderstand. The Prime Minister requests that you attend in the company of your Alliance officers. We want to showcase the contribution humanity is making to galactic security."

Shepard stiffened. She looked down at the ground for a moment, took a deep breath, and Liara could feel the irritation building across their bond.

Shepard looked back up, her expression granitic. "In that case, my apologies," she said quietly, but firmly. "I am otherwise engaged."

Worthington stared at her. "But, Commander… this is a personal invitation from Charles Saracino!"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. Please thank him for thinking of me, and give him my regards, but I repeat – I will not be attending."

"He's the Prime Minister of the Systems Alliance!"

"I'm aware of that," Shepard said sharply, the first strains of irritation starting to crack her demeanour as she noticed people starting to stare. Liara squeezed her hand again as Worthington's eyes narrowed.

"Well, if you're aware of that, then surely you realise that the Prime Minister can order you to attend," he pointed out in a condescending tone that started Liara's own irritation boiling.

"Actually, he can't," Shepard retorted. "I'm not a serving Alliance officer. With all due respect to Mr. Saracino's position, he can't order me to do anything."

"Commander, I don't think you understand..."

"What I understand," Shepard cut him off in a tone smouldering with the promise of fury, "is that some of my officers and crew, including my bondmate, are not welcome at your event on the grounds of their _species_. The Normandy is a Galactic Council vessel, and members of many different species serve aboard her with distinction. Not a few of her crew, human and nonhuman alike, gave their lives to defeat the Reapers and save Earth. To discriminate against them is a violation of Council statutes, to say nothing of deeply offensive to me, my crew, and my family, and I will not condone this kind of xenophobic _bullshit_, either professionally or personally. Either I can bring the guests of my choosing, or I don't attend. It's that simple. Now, are we clear?"

"Commander, I..."

"That was a yes or no question, Mr. Worthington."

"I don't have the authority to make that decision," the man whined.

"That's too bad. Please tell Mr. Saracino I hope he has a lovely evening. Good afternoon." Shepard turned her back on the functionary, offering Liara her arm with courtly gallantry. Liara, all too aware that Shepard was making a rare political point, smiled as broadly as she could, linked her arm with her bondmate's and allowed herself to be steered away from the dumbstruck bureaucrat, his gaggle of media correspondents, and the now-gawping crowd. The flashguns duly fired, and they would be all over the news in a matter of minutes.

_You probably shouldn't have done that_, she remarked placidly, opening up their bond to try and soothe Rachel a little.

_Yes I should_, Rachel replied, her thoughts boiling with anger, the sheer intensity of her outrage sending a bolt of arousal deep into Liara's belly_. I should have jumped up and down and shouted it at the top of my lungs. Are they really that stupid?_

_No, of course not. Saracino must know you would react that way to any suggestion of your being involved in a human-only event. I'm just a little worried that you might have played into their hands in some way._

_Shit_, Shepard groaned. _Yeah… Yeah I probably did. I just saw red._

_Oh, believe me, my love…_ Liara made a gallant attempt at a deep, calming breath,_ that much is abundantly apparent. _

_He doesn't get to treat you like that, not on my watch. And besides, we achieved so much working together in the war, and these bastards are hell-bent on trying to tear it all down. Fuck 'em. I won't be party to it, and if that gives them some stupid piece of propaganda to let all of the morons who support them froth at the mouth about my being a traitor to humanity, so be it. I can live with that. I don't have to ever come back here again if I don't want to._

_You don't really mean that, do you?_

_Sure I do. Mother Earth, my ass. I'm a spacer, and besides_, Shepard turned to face Liara and reverted to speech, cupping her face and tracing the edges of her neck folds with her fingertips, a move that did nothing to help Liara's surging libido, "my incredibly beautiful, fabulously wealthy bondmate has a perfectly serviceable palace on Thessia just waiting to be called home. I don't need this chunk of rock. If Chuckles wants Earth to be human only, he can fucking keep it."

Liara grinned as she tweaked Shepard's chin in response. They were still being watched, and if they were going to make the news, they might as well make the most of the opportunity. "Have I ever told you how sexually arousing I find you when you're outraged, Rachel?"

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "I don't believe that you have, no." She regarded Liara uncertainly for a moment, the comment having clearly derailed her train of thought. "Really?"

"Really," Liara drawled, tracing her fingers down the inside of Shepard's wrist and sharing the insistent throb of her desire across their bond. "See?"

Shepard let out a long, slow breath. "Wow. Well, now I know _exactly_ what we're going to do tonight instead, and it'll be _way_ more fun." She winked and drew Liara in even closer, tilting her head in the prelude to a kiss.

"The journalists are still watching," the asari protested insincerely, pleased at having provoked the reaction she'd hoped for.

"Screw 'em," Rachel snorted before capturing Liara's mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.

_If there _has_ to be screwing..._ Liara quoted slyly, and Shepard burst out laughing, ruining the moment as she dropped her head onto Liara's shoulder, body shaking with mirth.

"God, do you remember _everything_ I say?" she gasped.

"Not quite everything," Liara admitted with a chuckle, "But that was a memorable day. And much as I approve of the idea, we are now late to meet your mother, so once again, any demonstrations will have to wait until tonight."

"And here I was hoping you'd be up for a little spontaneity, given how riled up you are." Shepard looked around theatrically. "I'm sure we could find a secluded spot in the park over there."

Liara shivered. "Don't tempt me," she bit out. "Unless you're volunteering to explain to your mother why we would be even later?"

"I'd lie to her," Rachel grinned. "There are some things she really doesn't need to know."

"You'd lie to your mother?"

"For you? Without hesitation."

* * *

_Spokane, UNAS, Earth_

"I see you got yourself in the news again," Hannah Shepard remarked dryly as her daughter and daughter-in-law arrived at the restaurant. "Can't you steer clear of trouble for any length of time?"

"Empirical evidence would suggest not," Rachel chuckled as she kissed Hannah on the cheek and dropped into the seat to her left. "Despite Liara's best attempts at damage control."

"There's an old asari proverb that seems apposite," Liara remarked with a smile as she mirrored Rachel's actions, bestowing a kiss then taking the seat on Hannah's right. "You cannot tame a tornado."

"Spectre status isn't an impenetrable shield, kiddo," Hannah warned seriously. "For either of you. Saracino's not some minority right-wing cretin anymore, he's the Prime Minister of the Alliance."

"Yeah, I know," Rachel replied, sighing. "Well, he's still a right-wing cretin, but I get the point. I just…" she shot a protective look at Liara, "I don't care who he is, he doesn't get to treat Liara like that, either in person or through his minions. And this right here is exactly why I resigned my commission. I learned a good lesson from what happened to Ash with Udina, and I'm not going to be a signal booster for every political party that gets a majority in the Alliance parliament."

"And that's fair enough," Hannah agreed, "but the fact remains that you're a very visible public figure, and anything you do is newsworthy, especially on Earth. I know you don't care for the politics, but Saracino and his people know you're not with them, so they can't let you overshadow them. They'll fold this into a narrative about you being more concerned with aliens than with Earth, and that's a sentiment that plays well to the gallery at the moment." She reached out and took their hands. "Just bear it in mind, is all I ask. I know that both of you have little tolerance for bigotry, and that's admirable, but don't make it a crusade, OK? You don't have the political resources to win this particular pissing contest."

"Well, not publicly, maybe," Rachel conceded with a sly grin at her wife.

Liara adopted an innocent expression. "Of course we don't. And I would never dream of trying to interfere in a sovereign political process," she remarked blandly, tapping her fingers against her omni-tool wristband. "That would be very wrong of me. But if you want the story from this afternoon to disappear from the news cycle, I can take care of that."

Hannah cocked an intrigued eyebrow at her daughter-in-law. "How?" she asked.

"Well, a certain Westerlund news reporter of our acquaintance has been sniffing round a story concerning Saracino's newly appointed finance minister and an asari dancer on the Citadel," Liara replied.

"Scandalous," Shepard murmured. "Consorting with aliens, and telepathic ones to boot. Who knows what state secrets the conniving little whore has pulled out of his mind?" She cocked a curious eyebrow at Liara. "Doesn't seem like al-Jilani's style to hold back on something like that – she has an appetite for the hypocritical. Why hasn't she broken it?"

"She's missing hard proof." Liara rolled her forearm over nonchalantly, her omni-tool springing to flaming orange life. "Proof that can be… easily provided."

Hannah stared open-mouthed at Liara, belatedly realising that the asari was actually serious, and looked over at Rachel in consternation. "You're not _really_ going to…"

Her daughter shook her head fractionally. "Nah. It's not worth it," she said, patting her bondmate's knuckles in reassurance. Liara rolled her eyes, but she closed her interface down.

"The story will break sooner or later," she pointed out. "Khalisah will get the evidence one way or another, the only difference will be what gets buried underneath the public outcry. But if you're sure…"

Rachel nodded. "Your powers are only to be used for good, Li, remember?"

Liara's brow wrinkled. "Is that another one of your superhero references?"

"You're catching on." Rachel tweaked her bondmate's crest tip affectionately, then leaned forward, resting her weight on her forearms. "But enough about Saracino and politics and all that crap. This is supposed to be family time." She cocked an eyebrow at Hannah. "So, Mom... got any good gossip?"


	10. Mixed Signals

**Mixed Signals**

_Docking Bay C94, Citadel, Sol_

* * *

_I can't do this._

_Don't be so bloody stupid. You've been looking forward to this moment for months. Why are you so nervous? _

_Oh God, I think I have to pee._

As she shifted her weight to try and alleviate her discomfort, Lieutenant (j.g.) Samantha Traynor glanced nervously around the docking bay to make sure no one was watching. If she was going to cock this up, she didn't particularly want an audience while doing so. _Oh just get on with it, you bloody coward._ Taking a deep breath, she was about to step forward when a voice hailed her.

"Lieutenant!"

She turned to see a human male in an Alliance uniform hurrying toward her, boyish grin beneath a shock of blonde hair, duffel slung over one shoulder, Lieutenant Commander's stripes riding on the other. _Oh, fabulous. An audience that outranks me_. Sam pulled herself resignedly to attention and offered a salute. "Lieutenant Traynor, sir. How can I help?"

"Traynor? Wait, I know that name – you're that specialist they bumped up from the ranks, aren't you? The one that got shanghaied when Moreau stole the Normandy from her drydock?"

Sam restrained the urge to frown; that particular version of events was one she'd heard too often in recent months, beloved of a certain corps of Alliance personnel who seemed to have a variety of chips on their shoulders about the crew of the Normandy for one reason or another. "It was an unusual way to start my career, yes, sir," she agreed carefully. _Who the hell are you and what do you want?_

"Right, right." The commander smiled and stuck out a hand. "Lieutenant Commander Lucas Beltran. I'm the Normandy's new navigator."

"Oh. Pleased to meet you, sir. I was just about to report for duty."

"Excellent. C'mon then, little mustang let's go." Beltran strode past her with no little swagger, and Sam sighed. She followed the LC into the docking tube, halting at the outer airlock as the decontamination and scan protocols ran.

"Name, rank and posting, please."

EDI's voice was shockingly familiar, so much so that Sam's twanging nerves settled in a delighted instant. Somehow, she hadn't really expected the AI to be operational; when she'd left the Normandy six months ago, Tali had still been mapping the damage to her memory cores. "EDI, is that you?" she blurted, completely forgetting protocol.

"Yes. It's good to see you, Lieutenant Traynor. It is also gratifying to note that you have been promoted. Congratulations would seem to be in order, if that is not presumptuous of me."

"Not at all. Thank you, EDI. It's wonderful that you're back with us, too. I missed hearing your voice."

"I sustained approximately nineteen point six nine four percent memory loss when the Crucible beam was activated. Much of my most recent programming was corrupted, along with certain learned behaviours such as humour, but the crew have been working hard to aid me in rediscovering my lost knowledge. Jeff has been very patient, as have Shepard, Liara, and Miranda, but I would like to reassure you that I am fully capable of running the Normandy's systems at optimum capacity. We are fully compliant with health and safety protocols, and it has been six days since our last airlock fatality."

"That's great, EDI... Wait, what?" Sam spluttered as she processed through to the end of the sentence.

"That was a joke."

Sam flushed. "Great. Punked by the AI after less than fifteen seconds." She smiled up at the ceiling. "Regardless, I feel better already knowing you're looking out for us."

Beltran cleared his throat. "You done gossiping with the computer, LT?" he asked sharply, and Sam winced. _Bugger_.

"Yes, sir. My apologies."

"Name, rank and posting, please," EDI requested, somehow sounding more mechanical, as though Beltran's comment had offended her. Which it bloody well should have, in Sam's view. EDI was so much more than a _computer_.

"Lucas Beltran, Lieutenant Commander, GCV Normandy. Reporting for duty."

"Samantha Traynor, Second Lieutenant, GCV Normandy. Reporting for duty."

"Logged. Lieutenant Commander Beltran is aboard. Lieutenant Traynor is aboard. The Commanding Officer has the deck. All personnel please report directly to Commander Shepard."

"Thanks, EDI," Sam replied as the airlock cycled. Beltran strode through without a word.

"You're welcome, Sam," EDI said quietly. "Have a pleasant day."

Sam picked up her duffel and walked through the tube to emerge at the airlock just aft of the cockpit, where a familiar face was standing post. Smiling, Sam halted and pulled herself to attention again. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Granted, Lieutenant. Welcome aboard, ma'am." Corporal Campbell grinned as she snapped to and offered a salute.

Sam stepped across the coaming, returning Campbell's salute as best she could. "Thanks, Corp. Nice to see you again. And congratulations on the promotion."

"Backatcha, _LT_," Campbell beamed as they shook hands.

"So, we need to report to Commander Shepard," Sam explained, waving a hand vaguely to include Beltran.

"Yes, ma'am. The Commander said to expect new people. EDI pinged your arrival already, so I'd guess she's on her way dow… yeah, there we go." Campbell pointed to the elevator doors, which had just opened to eject the Normandy's commanding officer. Sam nodded a farewell to Campbell and followed Beltran aft.

Shepard was grinning broadly as she strode up the CIC to intercept them. "Well, well, well. If it ain't _Lieutenant_ Traynor," she called across the room, completely disregarding rank protocol. "It's about goddamn time you made an appearance. Welcome back, Sam."

Traynor returned the commander's grin with a bashful smile. "Thanks, Commander, it's good to be back." _It's better than good. It's absolutely bloody splendid._ She offered a hand, which Shepard ignored in favour of bundling the younger woman into an affectionate bear-hug. Traynor stiffened at first, surprised, then relaxed into the embrace, locking her arms around Shepard and squeezing back, hating and loving the fact that she was enjoying it so much.

"So how've you been, Sam?" Shepard asked genially as she released her hold.

"Oh, I can't complain," Traynor replied deprecatingly. "Well, I could, but I won't. You'd think me a dreadful wimp."

"That ship has definitely sailed," Shepard grinned, laughing as she dodged Sam's well-aimed slap of rebuke. "I'm kidding, Sam. Hypochondriac, maybe, but wimp? No."

"Oh, well that's all right," Traynor shot back. "I'm happy to cop to the former."

Shepard nodded, and looked over at Beltran. "And you must be Lucas Beltran, our new navigator." She offered a hand. "Welcome to the Normandy."

Beltran snapped off a precise salute, then accepted the handshake. "Thank you, Commander," he said stiffly. "It's a privilege to have been given this assignment, and I'm looking forward to working with you."

"At ease, LC, it's just another posting," Shepard offered encouragingly. "A little unorthodox, but you'll find the day-to-day pretty familiar." She smiled. "And speaking of unorthodox…"

Sam looked past Shepard as her peripheral vision picked up movement, and a new grin bloomed as she recognized the person approaching. "Liara!" she blurted out.

The asari stepped past Shepard to offer Traynor a second hug in as many minutes. "Samantha, welcome home. It's wonderful to have you back with us."

"All this affection is making me rather giddy," Sam chuckled as the asari released her. "OCS is _not_ big on hugs."

"Nope," Shepard agreed amiably. "Not much room in the curriculum for coddling, or cuddling. But you obviously survived."

"Barely survived," Sam corrected. "My PT, marksmanship, and CQC scores were the absolute minimum. I remain a piss-poor shot, a weakling, and a pushover, if the gunny is to be believed. Apparently his grandma can hit harder than me. And I'm given to understand she's dead."

"But you can analyze the crap out of data like no one else," Shepard concluded, "which is what I need you doing."

"Well, that's a happy coincidence, wouldn't you agree, ma'am?"

"Oh, absolutely. Commander Beltran, meet Dr. Liara T'Soni, Council Spectre and our operations and intelligence officer."

"Delighted to meet you, Commander. Welcome aboard." Liara offered her hand in the human style, but there was the slightest of hesitations before the commander reached out in response.

"Thank you. Glad to be here," Beltran replied. Liara's smile didn't flicker, but Sam saw Shepard tense slightly. _What's his problem? Surely he can't be one of those anti-alien idiots. Shepard would never have picked him for the crew if he was._

The moment dissolved as Shepard began to walk back down the CIC, indicating that Traynor, Beltran, and Liara should accompany her. "OK, Mr. Beltran, as Navigator you have staff responsibility for the flight crew, who are all Alliance personnel, and you report directly to the XO, Miranda Lawson. Traynor, as our Signals Intelligence Officer you have a team of two communications specialists reporting to you, one human, one salarian. Liara is your direct superior and line officer. Although you are both Systems Alliance officers, you do not report up through the SA chain of command on the ship. I expect you both to be familiar with the table of organization, and to set an example for the crew under your command, and the enlisted crew in general, understood?"

Traynor snapped back to attention, and heard Beltran do the same. "Yes, ma'am. I won't let you down."

"You never have, Sam," Shepard assured her kindly. "At ease, both of you. Traynor, you go with Liara. She'll get you settled and explain a bit more about the new setup. Mr. Beltran, you'll come with me, and I'll introduce you to your boss. Welcome back aboard, Sam, and if I don't see you before, I expect you to be at staffs in the morning with a readiness report on your team."

"Thanks, Commander. And yes, ma'am, understood."

"Li, I'll be in the XO's office with Miranda if I'm needed. EDI, Weps has the deck."

"Noted. Lieutenant Beauchene has the deck. Commander Shepard stands relieved."

Shepard laid a hand briefly on Liara's arm, and the asari bit back a sudden grin as the commander nodded a farewell, and strode off with Beltran in tow. Sam watched her for a moment, then chuckled softly.

"What's so funny?" Liara asked.

"Shepard," Sam replied, "she hasn't changed at all, has she?"

Liara considered it for a moment. "She has," she decided eventually. "And not all of it's good. But overall, it's been for the better, I think."

"You look much better, too, Liara," Sam offered. "If that's not an inappropriate comment."

"I don't find it to be." Liara smiled affectionately. "Thank you, Sam. You've been missed. Come on, let's get you up to speed. You don't need the grand tour, do you?"

"Not really," Sam replied as she followed the asari to the war room. No one else was present, and Sam dropped her duffel at the door, then ran an appreciative eye over the displays. "I like what you've done with the place."

"I was hoping you'd approve," Liara chuckled, "since we've rather brought you here under false pretences."

"You mean you _don't_ really need a Sig Int officer?" Sam suggested with a conspiratorial grin. "I suspected as much. With EDI around, you really only need a comm specialist, if you even need anyone."

"Yes, and your two specialists are perfectly adequate at managing the Normandy's comm traffic and normal operational duty. Mostly, we wanted you back because you're one of the family," Liara flashed her a warm smile, "but I wanted you back in particular because I need a deputy, someone I can trust to help me with my network. There's simply too much for me to analyze on my own, and while I can delegate some of it to the brokerage on Nos Astra, and Feron handles the outright criminal work, most of the data I receive is too highly classified or illegal to be distributed."

"It must be a right bugger trying to secure a network that complex," Sam noted thoughtfully.

Liara waved her hand at the display. "EDI manages my security along with Glyph. Which is not to say it can't be improved, another thing you could help me with. But Sam, the key thing is this." The asari's eyes were alight with enthusiasm as she spoke. "This data centre draws together the intelligence resources of every council government, every council military, a sizable cross-section of the non-Council governments, C-SEC, Spectre command, and what's left of the Shadow Broker network. While the volume of traffic is nowhere close to what it used to be, the quality of the data means as much of it, or more, is useful. Quite literally, _everything_ that is worth knowing flows through this room." Liara affected a long-suffering sigh. "And since my beloved bondmate has decreed that I am not allowed to sit in here with all of the galaxy's secrets and become some sort of reclusive supervillain…" the asari wrinkled her nose, "her words, not mine… I need someone to help me wrangle it."

Sam stared at the asari. "Bloody hell, Liara. Trying to bring coherence to that amount of information…"

"Is the challenge of a lifetime for a datarat like you?" Liara suggested, and Sam grinned.

"Absolutely. And I'm flattered, but… why me?"

"Because I trust you implicitly, Sam," Liara replied earnestly. "And because you're a good person. This data, in the wrong hands, could wreak untold damage on the galaxy. Even in the right hands, there is a constant battle with the temptation to use it selfishly." Liara cocked her head, her expression growing grave. "For example, I do not like Terra Firma, and their election concerns me."

"No one with half a brain likes Terra Firma," Sam scoffed.

"As you say, but not everyone has the ability I do to change things. It would be easy for me, with a little proper application, to undermine the human government and engineer a political landscape more palatable to the other races, but just because I can does not mean I should." Liara shot Sam a pensive look. "I won't say I have never given in to that temptation, and I won't say I won't ever do it again, but I need additional perspective, a backup moral compass, if you like, to keep me balanced in my approach." Liara smiled sadly. "I've become very cynical over the past few years, and sometimes that needs a bit of counterweight."

Sam nodded slowly. "I'm flattered that you think so highly of me," she said quietly, blushing.

"You're easy to think highly of, Sam. And Rachel adores you, which is usually a reliable indicator."

"Oh, God," Sam muttered, blushing even more. "Very well. Challenge accepted, Dr. T'Soni," she agreed with a little bow.

"Thank you, Dr. Traynor."

Sam gaped at her. "How the hell did you find out about that?" Oxford University had seen fit to grant her a doctorate after she'd submitted several terabytes of Reaper code research to her old supervisor's lab for a paper. The news had dropped into Sam's email less than twenty-four hours ago.

Liara shot a wry glance at the screens. "I'm a _very_ good information broker, Sam." She smiled again, more cheerfully. "And, given a little time, I think you will be too."

**oOoOo**

Miranda smiled a welcome from behind her terminal as Shepard strode into her office with a stranger at her heel. "Afternoon, Shep."

"Hey, Miri, how are you?" Shepard held out a hand to indicate her companion. "I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Commander Lucas Beltran, our new Navigator. Commander, Miranda Lawson, Council Spectre and the Normandy's XO."

He was definitely her type, looks wise, Miranda judged as he stepped forward. Slender, slim-hipped and bleached-blonde, with devastatingly blue eyes and a dark olive skin tone, he reminded her of the surfers she'd watched as a kid (on the rare occasions she'd been permitted to visit the beach, fully clothed and chaperoned), riding the waves in the endless sunshine of the summers in Sydney.

"Commander Beltran. Pleased to meet you," she offered, genially enough, but she didn't miss the wariness in Beltran's eyes as he accepted her offered handshake.

"Likewise, Miss Lawson," he replied with a cool smile of his own. "Heard a lot about you. Looking forward to seeing if the walk matches the talk."

"Oh, it does," Miranda assured him, giving him her best professional smile as he gawped at her, "and I foresee no problems proving that."

Shepard snorted with laughter at the LC's expression. "Careful what you wish for, Mr. Beltran," she advised.

"Vega to Shepard." The big marine officer's voice rang out quite suddenly from the allcomm speaker.

"Shepard here. What do you need, James?"

"I've got a little disciplinary situation here, Lola." James sounded rather sheepish. "Might need you or Miranda down in the cargo bay to straighten it out."

"And if Chakwas is available, she might be useful too," Cailian chipped in dryly.

Shepard rolled her eyes. "I'm on my way. I'll pick the Doc up on the way down." She exchanged a long-suffering glance with Miranda.

"It'll be Grunt," Miranda predicted.

"Of course it will," Shepard sighed.

"He's been baiting the marines since he got aboard. It was a matter of time."

"That's sailing pretty close to "I told you so," Miri. Why not just come right out with it?"

Miranda smirked. "I told you so."

"Swell. Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted while I go sort out the kindergarten." Shepard nodded to Beltran. "Welcome aboard, Commander."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Miranda let the silence stretch after Shepard had departed, waiting for Beltran to become impatient. It didn't take long; after a few seconds he began to fidget. "At ease, Mr. Beltran," Miranda instructed. "Have a seat."

Beltran settled into the chair obediently. "All right," Miranda continued, "I'm sure Shepard told you that the table of organization is a little different to standard Alliance protocol."

"She did," Beltran replied. "Though I don't like the idea of having subordinate ranks in a position of authority over me."

"There won't be," Miranda pointed out. "Your direct superior in the chain of command is me, and the only other officers aboard who have authority over you are the commander, Dr. T'Soni, the Chief Engineer, and, Dr. Chakwas." As his expression creased into a frown, she arched an eyebrow. "What's your concern, Commander?"

Beltran grimaced. "Honestly? With all due respect to Dr. T'Soni, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with taking orders from my CO's civilian wife."

Miranda adopted her best Ice Queen expression. "I'll say this once and once only. Your CO's wife is not a civilian, she is a Council Spectre, and served aboard this ship with distinction throughout the Reaper War. Her qualifications for her post are beyond question. It is true that her relationship with the commander creates an unorthodox situation..." she leaned forward, her gaze boring into his, "but that's the way the ship is run, and the only advice I have for you is that if you can't deal with that, you should pick up that duffel, take yourself back to the airlock, and find yourself another job. And if you do choose to stay aboard, that had better be the only time anyone hears you voice that opinion, understood?"

Beltran met her gaze coldly. "Understood."

"Understood…" Miranda sat back and folded her arms, waiting.

Beltran flushed. "Understood… ma'am," he offered grudgingly.

"Excellent. So what's your decision. Are you staying with us?"

"Of course." Beltran tried for a laugh. "I'd have to be insane to turn this posting down. It's the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Well then, see that you make the most of it. EDI, would you ask Lieutenant Daniels to step in?"

"Of course, Miranda."

Miranda returned her attention to Beltran. "I'll expect your initial departmental review on my desk by oh nine hundred tomorrow, LC, for ratification before it's presented at staffs."

"Yes, ma'am."

The door chime sounded, and Lieutenant Daniels stuck her head into the room. "You called, Miranda?"

"I did. Gabby, this is Lieutenant Commander Beltran, our new navigator. Can you show him around, get him up to speed on things, cut him his credentials and so on?"

"Sure can." Gabby stuck out a hand. "Welcome aboard, sir."

Beltran stood and accepted the handshake. "Thanks, LT."

"My door is always open if you need anything," Miranda advised. "Welcome to the Normandy, Mr. Beltran. Dismissed."

Beltran braced perfunctorily to attention then nodded. "Thank you," he replied, then he turned on his heel, lifted his duffel and stalked out. Gabby cocked a questioning eyebrow, and at Miranda's headshake, she rolled her eyes and followed their new officer from the room.

"Might I suggest that Commander Beltran is likely to cause problems, Miranda?" EDI wondered aloud.

"You might, EDI. And I might agree with you."

"Why was he selected to serve on the Normandy if he is not comfortable with non-standard procedures?"

"He was recommended by the Alliance council. His service record is exemplary, so there was no reason not to agree. But it seems like he might have some personal issues that could cause problems." She looked up at the sensor over her desk. "Keep an eye on him for me, will you, EDI?"

"Affirmative."

**oOoOo**

"So, uh, Shepard, you got a second?"

Shepard looked up to see Joker standing at the door to the war room, fidgeting nervously. "Sure," she agreed, waving a hand in invitation, "c'mon in. Liara, could you excuse us, please?"

Liara nodded. "I'll be in our quarters if you need me," she offered. As she passed Joker, a look passed between them, and the pilot dropped his gaze and blushed.

As soon as the asari was gone, Joker seemed to relax a little. "What was the deal in the shuttle bay?" he asked.

"Grunt's been needling the marines for kicks since he got aboard. One of them finally snapped and took a swing for him."

"Humanity's best and brightest, right here on this boat," Joker snorted. "Is he still alive?"

"Chakwas is patching him up, and when he's back on his feet, Grunt will be coaching him in hand-to-hand drill for the next two weeks."

A sparkle of his old humour lit Joker's eyes. "Ouch. Cruel and unusual." He sobered quickly, though, his expression setting back into the stony mask he wore almost all the time now. "So," he began, "there's something I want to say to you. So I need you to just listen till I'm done, OK? And then, if you want to toss my ass out the airlock, well, I'd appreciate it if you'd do it before we undock, deal?"

"Deal," Shepard agreed, folding her arms across her chest. "OK, Joker, hit me."

"I was pissed as hell at you," Joker said bluntly. "Still am, if I'm honest. I don't know if I can get past being pissed at you. I don't know if we can ever go back to being the way we used to be. Friends. You broke it. No matter what your intentions were, you broke it, and I can't forgive that. I don't want to." He paused, looked at Shepard expectantly, and she nodded.

"That's fair," she offered.

"Right." Joker shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Shit, are you really not even gonna argue with me about it?"

Shepard shrugged. "What's the point?" she asked. "I made a decision that got EDI killed. You loved her, maybe you still do, and you're pissed at me for making that call. What exactly am I meant to be arguing over?"

"I dunno," Joker grumbled, "I guess I just didn't expect you to be such a pussy about it."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Pussy?"

"Yeah. Aren't you gonna get mad at me for being unreasonable, like Liara?"

Shepard shrugged. "Liara has her opinion. I have mine. I don't think you're being unreasonable, I know exactly why you're angry at me, and I don't really expect you to be able to forget it, or forgive it."

"Well, all right. Glad we clarified that. I don't forgive you. But maybe... maybe I can do better with keeping it professional. I'll try to, anyway, because your wife scares the shit out of me when she's angry."  
"Discretion is the better part of valour," Shepard noted.

Joker took a deep breath. "Right. So that's how this is gonna go down. I'm doing this to stay on the right side of Liara, not for you, are we clear on that?"

Shepard nodded. "We are."

"Good. OK, then, I guess that was it."

"OK," Shepard agreed. "Thanks, Joker. Let me know when we're flight ready, will you?"

"You got it. Later, Shepard." Joker limped away. Shepard watched him go, then followed him out to the CIC and caught the elevator to the crow's nest. Liara was sitting at her desk in the office, focused on whatever she was working on, lower lip caught between her teeth in an adorably earnest expression.

Rachel watched her for a moment, paralysed with indecision. She wasn't really sure how she felt about what had just happened. On the one hand, she was relieved that Joker had levelled with her, but the implication that Liara had taken action to deal with it without talking it over first had her a little off-balance. After the incident the other day she'd been dreading having the talk she'd managed to put off. When Liara hadn't really followed up on it, she'd started to relax, but it seemed that her bondmate had simply decided to go around her this time.

"Rachel?" Liara's concerned voice snapped her out of her reverie. She blinked and took a slight step back as she realised the asari was right in front of her, cerulean blue eyes searching her face anxiously. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm OK." She took a deep breath. "So, you talked to Joker?"

Liara's guilty start gave her away, but then a determined expression set her features. "I did. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but you weren't dealing with it, and neither was he. I know how angry he is, but I don't accept that his being angry gives him the right to treat you as he does." Her expression softened slightly. "I can never bear to see someone hurt you," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around Shepard's neck and hugged her tightly. "You punish yourself enough, love. You don't need Joker to keep on punishing you as well."

Shepard returned the hug, squeezing the asari close. "Thank you," she murmured. "Even though I… I dunno, I kind of wish you'd talked to me first."

Liara tipped her head back to meet her gaze. "Really? I rather thought you were hoping I'd forget about it."

Shepard grimaced, then chuckled wryly as she realised how true that was. "Busted."

Liara broke the embrace, caught her hand and pulled her down into the living area and over to the bed. "Meld with me," she requested as she sat down.

Rachel settled next to her, closing her eyes and relaxing as much as she could, smiling involuntarily as she felt Liara's welcome presence warm her awareness. _Hey_, she whispered.

_Hey_. Liara's response was just as joyful, just as pleased.

_Is this a social meld, or did you have something you wanted to share?_

_Just this. _Liara's emotions swelled, enveloping Rachel in a gentle mental embrace, instantly communicating all of Liara's concerns and her motivations for her intervention_. I love you,_ Liara whispered in her mind. _I'd do anything to protect you._

_I know_, Shepard assured her, accepting the knowledge, and returning her overwhelming gratitude for the depth of the asari's care. _I know, sweetheart. I love you too. Let me show you how much._ Resting her left hand on Liara's right shoulder, she leaned in and kissed her bondmate. Liara's fingers wandered up her neck and into her hair, tightening as Shepard slid her hand round to caress the folds of her neck. Liara shivered, moaning involuntarily into their kiss.

_God, I love it when you make that sound_, Shepard whispered, breaking the kiss and working her mouth along Liara's jaw to her neck. _Turns me on something awful._ Dropping her hands to the hem of Liara's BDU t-shirt, she tugged the garment up and over the asari's head, dropping it carelessly to the deck. _And I love that you don't feel the need to wear that armour all the time any more - it's much easier to get you out of simple clothes._

_I noticed that,_ Liara agreed as she unhooked and discarded her bra. _It wasn't my sole motivation for updating my wardrobe, but it was definitely on the list of pros_. She grabbed Shepard's collar and fell back, pulling the human down on top of her.

Rachel slowly worked her lips down Liara's neck, across the plane of her collarbone, and down the slope of one blue breast, keeping her kisses as light as she could, letting her breath tease the asari's sensitive skin. Liara arched into her caresses with a sigh of contentment, her slowly kindling pleasure tickling the back of Rachel's mind as their meld deepened.

_What would you like me to do?_ Rachel asked, flicking her tongue lightly across Liara's nipple.

_Mmm, just keep doing that for now, _Liara requested, threading her fingers in Rachel's hair once more.

_Your wish is my command._ Rachel drew the now-erect nipple between her lips, teasing it gently, and began to trail the fingers of her right hand delicately over the top edges of Liara's scars, right where they intersected the smooth, scale-free strip of skin that ran down the centre of her torso.

Liara shuddered at the touch: her skin was especially sensitive there, making what was a natural erogenous zone for the asari even more responsive, an intimate connection that was unique to their bond. _Goddess, Rachel_, Liara sighed ecstatically, _please… use your mouth there?_

_Sure._ Shepard smiled against her bondmate's skin and began to work her way over, enjoying the low thrum of arousal in her own belly as Liara's emotions began to exert their influence on her nervous system.

"Traynor to Shepard."

Rachel froze as the voice blaring from the comm shattered the intimate quiet. Pulling out of the meld, she bit back a groan of frustration. Liara's eyes cleared to blue, and she clapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, goddess damn it," she muttered.

"Traynor to Shepard," the signals officer repeated more tentatively, and then, with distinct apprehension in her voice, she tried a new tack. "Um…Commander? Are you there?"

"Yeah, Traynor, I'm here." Rachel sighed loudly as she sat up. "And I'm suddenly getting a pretty strong sense of déjà vu. What's up?"

"I'm so sorry to bother you off duty… already… but you've got a priority one call incoming from the Council."

"Oh, terrific." Rachel rolled off of Liara and flopped onto her back melodramatically. "Can we try the 'I'm in a meeting with a confidential informant' line?"

"I'm afraid not," Traynor replied miserably. "Since Liara's name is also on the call contact."

"Oh for the sake of Athame," Liara groaned.

"And Miranda, too." Traynor paused. "I figured since all three of you were called, it was _probably_ important enough to risk cock-blocking my CO on my first day back."

"And your line officer," Liara added darkly.

Shepard chuckled wryly. "OK, Traynor, point taken, I'm done being a cry-baby, and so is Li. Route it to the war room and have Miranda meet us there."

"Aye aye."

Liara sat up, and Rachel gave her a peck on the cheek. "Sorry, babe. Got you all riled up for nothing."

"I enjoyed it while it lasted," Liara chuckled, fishing her bra and shirt from the deck and struggling back into them. "And hopefully whatever they want will not preclude a repeat performance later."

Shepard nodded, ran her hands through her hair to straighten out the worst of the tangles Liara's fingers had created, and led her bondmate to the elevator.

Miranda was waiting in the war room, and cocked an eyebrow at them. "Now, what could you two possibly have been up to?" she asked innocently. Shepard grinned.

"It kills you that I pulled out all the spycams in there, doesn't it?"

Miranda smirked. "Not half as much as it annoys EDI."

"I do not feel annoyance, Miranda," EDI corrected primly.

"You protest too much," Shepard told the AI, "but this can wait. Accept incoming transmission, please, EDI."

The QEC image flickered to life, resolving into the holographic forms of Zaal'Koris, Sparatus, and Tevos. "Shepard, Lawson, T'Soni," Sparatus greeted them. "We have a new assignment for you."

Shepard nodded. "What's going on?"

"We've received a new report of indoctrination." Koris spoke quietly, his head bowed in grief. "On Rannoch."

"Oh no," Shepard breathed. "I'm so sorry, Councilor."

"Thank you, Shepard. I know it's a long trip to ask you to take," Koris continued, "but I just wouldn't feel comfortable with anyone else handling it." The quarian councilor was studying the floor intently as he spoke.

"Of course," Shepard agreed immediately. "We'll get underway as fast as we can."

"Tali, Raan, and the others will be able to assist you, and brief you in on the situation when you arrive. It was Tali that raised the alarm, so we're reasonably sure it's authentic and not just scaremongering."

"I'll check in with fleet intelligence right away," Liara offered.

"Thank you, Liara," Tevos said. "We won't waste your time. We trust as always that you understand the sensitivity of the mission, and we will be waiting for your report. Goddess go with you."

The QEC winked out, and Shepard turned to Miranda. "Miri, hands to stations for immediate departure," she ordered. "Anyone not on board in an hour will be doing shore duty for the Council until we get back. EDI, start spooling up the systems."

"Right." Miranda nodded and hurried out, heading for the CIC. Shepard shot a wry glance at Liara.

"Rain check?"

Liara grinned wryly. "Indeed. I'll be in here if you need me."

"All right." Shepard squared her shoulders and followed her XO out onto the command deck. There was work to be done.

* * *

**A/N:**_Hey guys, thanks as always for reading. I'm off on vacation for a few weeks, so if I don't respond to any reviews or messages right away, rest assured that I will get to them soon. And updates will resume, here and on Asclepius Abides, when I get back!_


	11. Complex Problems

**Complex Problems**

_GCV Normandy, Perseus Veil Approach Vector, Far Rim_

* * *

"All right everyone, let's get cracking."

The murmur of conversation around the briefing table faded, and the lights dimmed as the holoviewer sprang to life, displaying an image of a planet with small oceans and massive, barren continents. "This is our destination, Rannoch," Shepard began. "Most of you are familiar with it, I'm sure. Local quarian intelligence has reported a case of group indoctrination, so we're on our way to check that out. Liara?"

"There's not much to say, unfortunately. The initial report was relayed to the council by Admiral Tali'Zorah," Liara picked up the narrative, "detailing a party of around twenty quarians who had been deployed on a long-range survey mission to the south of the major settlement, Dawnfall. When they failed to make a routine check-in after being in the field a month, a marine detachment was dispatched to assist. They found the survey party camped out in a decommissioned geth hub here." Liara expanded the planet view to show the southern continent, highlighting the position of the target hub, tucked neatly at the bottom of a narrow, deep canyon. As the display zoomed in further to show a three-dimensional model, James whistled.

"That's going to be a bitch to get close to unseen."

"You said it," Shepard agreed. The ravine was too narrow for a shuttle or Mako drop, and landing on the plateau would mean a risky rappel down a cliff face that was a good hundred metres high.

"Go at night?" Cailian suggested, studying the model. "Less chance of anyone looking up and spotting us."

"Let's get some local knowledge when we arrive at Dawnfall, then make the call," Shepard decided. "Carry on, Liara, please."

"There's not much more to tell," Liara admitted. "The case seems to follow the usual pattern. When the rescue party approached, they were fired upon on several occasions, and there was no communication. The observed the site covertly for a few hours afterward, and when one of the survey party exited the hub, they snatched him. By the time they got him back to Dawnfall, he was catatonic, but the marines report he was frantic, screaming incoherently until they reached a certain distance from the hub, about two kilometres, and then he passed out." The asari spread her hands. "That's it, I'm afraid. There's nothing in our other sources that's helpful—Rannoch's a long way out, and data from that region of space is still very scarce. When we arrive, we should be able to fill in the gaps."

"OK, Liara, thank you." Shepard looked over at Cailian and James. "It's likely we're looking at a long, sweaty hike in, and a long sweaty hike out, and fighting in geth hubs can be claustrophobic to say the least. EDI will download the coordinates to your omni-tools. Do your homework carefully. I'll want party recommendations from both of you by the end of the day."

"You got it, Lola," James agreed with a wink. Cailian nodded crisply.

"Good. Doctor, anything you'd like to add for consideration?"

Chakwas smiled. "I'm glad you asked, Commander. In case it needs to be said, Rannoch's southern continent is hot. Very hot. Your hardsuits should insulate you from the worst of that, and even though there are no atmospheric irritants, I'd strongly suggest full breather helmets. You'll be much more comfortable, much more alert, and since the quarians are more likely to be using unsealed suits in their home environment, you'll be limiting their exposure to foreign agents, which is a courtesy if nothing else. Triple your water supply, and make sure you have excess ration tubes – I don't recommend experimentation with dextro foodstuffs if you get peckish."

"Thanks, Doc." Shepard looked around the table. "OK, that's the upcoming mission. We'll convene a shore-party briefing once we arrive on Rannoch and get some better intel. Moving on, general staffs. Let's just do a quick round the table, unless anyone has anything urgent." When no one responded, she grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Miranda?"

"It's that time of month again. Staff reports are due from each division head by oh-eight hundred Friday morning this week." Miranda grinned at the chorus of groans that erupted. "Aside from that, I'd like to schedule some drills for our return trip, make the best use of the dead time."

"Agreed." Shepard nodded approval. "Set up half a dozen scenarios. I'll do the same, and we can mix and match."

"Understood. Apart from that, I have nothing else for the moment."

"Thanks, Miri. Liara?"

"Nothing else right now," the asari declared.

"Adams, how's my boat?"

"Ship-shape and Bristol fashion, ma'am," the chief engineer replied crisply. "Once we get to Rannoch we'll organize a full static discharge and run a bow to stern service diagnostic to prepare for the deep-space long haul back to Caleston Rift. I don't anticipate any problems, but we'll check every nut and bolt before we go, just to be sure."

"Thanks, Chief. I know we're in the best of hands. Speaking of long haul, for those of you who've not yet met him, Mr. Beltran here is our new Navigator. LC, how're we looking?"

"We're en route to the Perseus Veil from the Far Rim mass relay," Beltran began. "That's a four-day burn, so our ETA is," he checked his chrono, "about ninety hours, as of now."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask, how come we didn't just jump straight to the Veil?" James asked.

Beltran nodded. "It's a tertiary relay. It's only connected to the network through Far Rim. And since Far Rim hasn't been repaired yet, it can't redirect traffic to its child relay. So we can jump out from Caleston Rift to Far Rim, but we can't turn the corner, so to speak."

"Got it, Charts, thanks." Vega flashed Shepard a wink, and she rolled her eyes at him in silent rebuke.

"Um yeah, so," Beltran refocused on Shepard. "I understand from Chief Adams that we have plentiful supply of discharge buoys aboard. Still, since it's always better to have a belt and braces, I've charted this route for our return to Caleston." He punched some commands into his omni-tool, and the galaxy map display popped up with a slightly dog-legged path back to Caleston marked. "We'll lose a little time, maybe twelve hours," he conceded, "but this route puts us in striking range of two asteroid belts, and across the trails of three comets, so we should have plenty of emergency discharge options."

Shepard smiled, pleased. "Good work, LC. Better safe than sorry, without a shadow of a doubt. Verify the calculations with EDI, please, then submit the flight plan to me for approval."

"Aye, ma'am."

Beauchene and Chakwas had nothing further to report on either their weapons systems or their general health, and Cailian and Vega both asserted that their teams were five-by in spite of playing rough with one another. Satisfied, Shepard turned her attention to the final member of her senior staff. "Last but not least. Sam?"

Traynor cleared her throat. "Um," she began, "right. I've been doing a top-down assessment of our comms systems, and I have to say, whoever did the refits wants their hands cut off."

Adams gave her a consternated glance. "Is there a problem with the hardware, Samantha?"

"Oh no," Sam assured him hastily. "Sorry, sir, I should have specified. It's the programming—they reset it all to standard Alliance protocols. Most of the work EDI and I did during the war has been stripped."

"I did wonder why it was taking longer." Liara grimaced. "I had attributed it to the general lack of bandwidth."

"Well, that's certainly a factor," Sam agreed. "It's not that the system's bad, per se, it's just that I had it nicely optimized, and…" she trailed off with a sigh.

"Will it take a lot of effort to re-do?" Shepard asked.

"Not as much as it did to design in the first place, fortunately," Sam judged. "It'll give me and the team something to do while we're chugging through empty space for a few weeks. I'll run up a work estimate and submit it to Liara, shall I?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Sam."

"Oh, my pleasure. Absolutely."

"Gambit, the place just wasn't the same without you," James chuckled.

"All right," Shepard summed up as Sam blushed, "we'll reconvene tomorrow morning, same time, same place. Have a good day, everyone. Dismissed."

As the crew dispersed, she wandered over to Liara's side. "What's up?"

"I'm annoyed with myself for not spotting the changes to the comm systems," Liara admitted.

"Well, nobody's perfect, Li," Shepard chided with a smile. "Although you're closer than most."

Liara rolled her eyes. "You're not going to flatter me into feeling better."

"Pity. Don't worry about it, this is exactly why we wanted Sam back." Shepard leaned on the guard rail, gazing down into the holoemitter, which was still set to the galaxy map.

"Yes, I know." Liara settled beside her, upper arm pressing against Shepard's.

"It's gonna be a long trip." Shepard huffed a sigh. "We got so spoiled by the relays. They let you forget just how big the galaxy really is."

"I'm rather looking forward to it, actually," Liara observed. "In spite of the nature of the mission. We'll get to see Tali and Garrus, and then there'll be all that time we can have to ourselves on the way back."

Shepard burst out laughing. "I'm taking a note of the time and date you said that, and I look forward to the moment I get to say I told you so when you complain in about two weeks' time that you've hardly seen me."

"That's not going to happen," Liara protested.

"Oh but it is," Shepard predicted. "I can hear it now. 'Goddess, Rachel, I'm so sorry, it's just that I found the most fascinating lead on Prothean nose-hair clippers, and well, you know how one thing leads to another, and I really didn't realise until Sam stabbed me with the IV line that I hadn't eaten or slept for six days'."

Liara arched one of her eyebrow markings in disdain. "Very funny, Rachel."

"I try."

Liara sighed, and rested her head against Shepard's shoulder. "I'm glad we have Sam back. I've missed her."

"Me too. Place feels more like home with her interrupting us every five minutes. And God knows we needed someone competent looking after our comms, as demonstrated."

"Mr. Beltran seems competent, too," Liara noted. "If nowhere near so personable."

"Miranda gave him the 'be a team player' talk," Shepard assured her. "I'm not going to make knee-jerk judgements. He could just be a stickler for the regs – the fraternization statutes exist for a reason, and plenty of people adhere to them religiously."

"I see the logic, of course," Liara admitted. "I just never quite understood how you expected people to be able to control who they fall in love with."

"You can't. But you can make sure that your relationship falls within the rules. Hell, if you couldn't do that, half the current Alliance forces, including me, would never have been born."

"But we're not within the rules, are we?"

Shepard sighed. It was a worm of doubt she'd never really been able to square in her head. A doubt that had led to a conversation with Miranda, not long after she'd got aboard. _"Miri, there's one thing I need you to promise, right here, right now."_

_"__What's that?"_

_"__That if my emotions ever compromise my judgement on a tactical call, you'll boot my ass off the bridge and take command."_

_Miranda narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "This is about Liara, right?"_

_Shepard nodded. "We were lucky, during the war. I can't take it for granted that we always will be, and you're the only person I'd trust with this."_

_Miranda tilted her head to one side, blushing slightly. "I'll make that promise with one stipulation. That as far as possible in such situations, the three of us talk it out," she smirked, "Spectre to Spectre, and reach an agreement. Obviously if it's in combat that won't work, but in planning missions and ground operations and so on, we can probably mitigate a lot of angst ahead of time."_

_"__You got it."_

_"__Then I promise."_

Shepard pressed a kiss to Liara's crest. "No, we're not, but we do have a pretty good track record. Don't worry about Beltran, Li. He'll settle down, I'm sure. Pressly straightened out with time, after all."

"I hope you're right." Liara straightened with a reluctant sigh. "When are you off duty later?"

"Twenty-one hundred."

"Good. I'd like to finish the discussion we were having last night when Sam called."

Shepard grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"I thought you would." Liara brushed a quick kiss against her lips. "Don't be late, Commander."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

* * *

_Dawnfall, Rannoch, Perseus Veil_

"Liara! Shepard!"

Liara grinned in delight as she saw her friends waiting for her at the end of the dock. Tali was already moving, running toward them, and she threw herself into Liara's arms with a cry of joy. "_Keelah_, Liara, it's wonderful to see you!"

Happiness bubbled in Liara's chest as she hugged her quarian friend. "Oh, Tali, it's so good to see you. Are you well?"

"No," the quarian replied cheerfully. "I haven't been able to breathe through my nose since we arrived, I'm constantly breaking out in all sorts of rashes, and you really don't want to hear about the state of my digestive system."

"We suspect she might be allergic to turians," Garrus quipped as he approached at a more sedate pace. He favoured Liara with a warm smile, then transferred his attention to Shepard, who had her arms full of delighted quarian. "I didn't hear any explosions on the way in. Is it possible you're losing your touch now that you've kicked the ass of every bad guy in the galaxy?"

"Liara's teaching me to be diplomatic," Shepard sassed him back, grinning broadly as she put Tali down.

"Dip-lo-mat... no, I'm not familiar with the word, I'm afraid."

Shepard winked at him. "It means the explosions start a little later."

"Oh, like a diversion? Gotcha." The turian's mandibles flared, and a deep laugh rumbled up from his chest. "Spirits, Shepard, it's good to see you," he crowed, pulling Liara's bondmate into a crushing hug. "Life sure is boring when you're not around."

"It's good to see you too, G," Shepard replied, her voice thick with emotion. "The Normandy isn't the same without you both."

Tali and Garrus shared a long look. "We miss being out there with you, no doubt about it," Tali said for them. "But on the upside, at least here I can do this..." And she pulled her face mask away with a flourish to reveal her beautiful face, lit up with a luminous smile and intense violet eyes that positively glowed with happiness.

"I always meant to ask, Vakarian, how did _you_ end up with the prettiest girl on the Normandy?" Shepard jibed.

Tali gasped in mock shock. "Surely you don't think I'm prettier than Liara?" she chided playfully.

"You're certainly prettier than Shepard," Liara cut in with a smirk. Shepard grinned.

"No argument here. Besides, Liara keeps telling me that she's not a woman," Shepard sassed. "I'm trying to learn not to be an anthropocentric bag of dicks."

Tali giggled. "You're going to end up the henhouse, Shepard," she warned.

"That's doghouse, Tali."

"Dog, hen, whatever." The quarian shrugged. "Species-specific pedantry isn't going to save you."

"I was kind of banking on reproductive biology carrying the day."

"You're cutting it a little close," Garrus warned with an amused mandible flare. Shepard winked at him, then turned to her bondmate.

"Liara, no matter their species or gender identity, I've never met _anyone_ more beautiful than you are," she declaimed, pressing a courtly kiss to the asari's knuckles.

Liara blushed furiously. "Goddess, Rachel, I…" she cleared her throat. "Consider yourself on parole for now."

"Oh, _nice_ sucking up," Garrus stage-whispered in admiration, and Tali flicked one of his mandibles.

"I hope you're taking notes, Vakarian."

"Avidly, my love."

Tali sighed. "We'd better go meet the rest of the Board," she said reluctantly. "Get you some more information on the situation with the indoctrinated scouts. They're not bothering anyone right now, but…" She sighed heavily.

"Yeah," Shepard agreed, her own voice pained. "I'm sorry, Tali, I wish there was a better solution."

"It's such a waste." The quarian shook her head, and Garrus gave her a supportive hug.

"It is, but it's kinder to everyone to deal with it quickly," he gruffed.

"Yes, I know. The two of you will join us for dinner after, though, won't you?" Tali invited. "You'll have to bring your own food – we don't have any levo rations – but I'd love to show you how we've been getting on."

Liara nodded eagerly. "We'd love to."

The Admiralty Board had surprisingly little to add to Tali's original report, and while they were cordial, Liara got the distinct impression that they were preoccupied. Understandable, she supposed, given the complexities involved in trying to convert a nomadic space-faring society to farmers and civil engineers. Compared to the rapid pace of advance in the short time when the geth had been there to assist, progress seemed to have slowed considerably, and the frustration imparted by that deceleration was clear to see.

Shepard's mood, initially buoyed by the reunion with her turian big brother and quarian little sister, deteriorated slowly as the afternoon passed, taking hit after hit as they reviewed the geth complex that comprised the mission target zone, as Daro'Xen took every opportunity she could to bemoan the lack of _resources_ for the settlement effort, as Shala'Raan detailed the progress made in converting geth buildings for quarian use, as Han'Gerrel coughed a weak salutation on their victory over the Reapers, his vigour and breath stolen by his body's violent allergic reaction to the planet he'd always dreamed of reconquering. Everywhere they went, quarians greeted them with wary stares, and everywhere they went, the absence of the geth seemed almost palpable, a ghostly presence that hovered just at the edge of the senses, an accusing silence that was somehow louder than any scream.

Liara shivered as chills chased down her spine. She knew she was simply feeling emotional bleed from her bondmate as Shepard fought a losing battle to control her feelings, but the intensity had never been so acute before. All she could do was keep close to Rachel and try to impart whatever support she could, but the public setting didn't allow for much interaction beyond holding her hand. _Are you all right, Rachel?_ she whispered across their bond.

_I'm fine, Li._ The reply was curt, as though the elaboration would crack the damn Shepard was clearly trying hard to hold together.

By the time they reached Tali and Garrus' modest pre-fab on the edge of Dawnfall, Rachel had become almost morose, lost in her own thoughts. Tali, forthright as ever, addressed the issue head-on as soon as they cleared her decontamination airlock and were ensconced on the privacy of her living room. "Sometimes my people can be such _bosh'tets_," she spat contemptuously. "I'm sorry, Shepard. Here, sit down, both of you, and take your helmets off, both of you. I want you to be comfortable."

"Nothing for you to be sorry for, Tali," Shepard replied dejectedly as she set her helmet aside and flopped onto the couch. Liara followed suit with a little more decorum, wrapping her arm around Shepard's shoulders as she settled.

"I swear Xen gets worse with every week that passes," Tali observed with a snort. "She was always driven, but lately she's been so fixated on the idea that we could use the geth platforms as a kind of glorified mech that she's turning on anyone who voices a contrary opinion. She's really gotten quite hostile."

"Not that she was the sunshine and bunnies type to start with, of course," Garrus quipped dryly.

"This whole situation is so _stupid_," Tali continued, warming to her subject as she sat down on Shepard's other side. "I mean, I hate to agree with Xen even partially, but reactivating the geth—properly, mind you, not turning them into the slaves and lab rats she so desperately wants—would help _everyone_, not just us. Imagine if we could ask them to help fix the relays, assist with repairing the Citadel, or help rebuild Thessia and Earth and Palaven. Not reactivating them is insane from a purely practical standpoint." She snorted. "And that's not even considering the fact that it's just the right thing to do."

Liara gave the quarian a fond look. "I remember a time when you would have considered such a statement blasphemy."

Tali ducked her head, embarrassed. "I was a kid who didn't know any better, and my father's prejudices coloured mine." She sighed regretfully. "I spent so long being suspicious of Legion, out of ignorance and fear. If I'd been able to trust him, we might have been able to free the geth earlier, learned so much more about them."

"You'd still have the same dilemma now, though," Shepard pointed out in a barely audible voice.

Tali threw her arms around Shepard's neck and hugged her fiercely. "Oh, Shepard, I didn't mean… I just meant our decision now would be so much more informed. We'd have more data, more experience, be able to make a better choice. The right choice." The quarian burrowed closer, forcing Shepard to wrap an arm around her to keep her balance. "I've never forgotten that talk we had, the night after we rescued Koris."

"The one where I gave you all that hypocritical grief about the geth being people too?" Shepard asked bitterly, and Liara's heart clenched at the self-loathing in her bondmate's voice.

"You were right to," Tali assured her firmly. "Whatever happened after that, you helped me stop our people from perpetuating a war they could not win." Tali tugged off her mask. "You look at me, Shepard," she commanded.

Shepard looked up, her eyes bright with tears.

"You did everything you could to help the biggest number of people. You laid down your life and risked everything you cherish to defend every life in this galaxy. And that includes the geth. You gave them the opportunity to be seen as true living beings." Tali gripped Shepard's shoulders firmly. "I've given this a lot of thought. The code they used to gain true sentience was Reaper-based. We'll never know for sure, but there's a strong possibility that using it long-term would have condemned them to the same fate as organics who are exposed to Reaper tech. The same is true for EDI. I think maybe that what we can do now—rebuild them without Reaper influence, give them the chance to achieve sentience on their own without the possibility of enslaving them to a bunch of dead alien overlords—that _has_ to be better than if they'd survived only to turn on everyone a few months down the line." She pulled off one glove and laid her bare hand against Shepard's cheek. "You were right to make the choices you did. Don't let the narrow-minded idiocy of some of my people convince you otherwise."

Shepard nodded slowly, tears streaming down her face, and hugged Tali again. "Thank you, Tali," she whispered.

Liara, her own eyes brimming, exchanged a weighted glance with Garrus. The turian nodded, and when Shepard and Tali broke apart he clapped the human on the shoulder. "Come on, Shepard," he invited. "I want to show you the sweet target range I've got set up. These last few months I've had to make do with kicking the ass of the entire quarian marine corps, so if you're going to be around for a few days, I'd appreciate the chance to reassert my supremacy against someone who can almost shoot straight."

Shepard dashed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and managed a watery grin. "Bring it on, G," she accepted. "Let's see where the King of the Bottle Shooters hones his lethal skills."

Garrus wrapped her in a rough hug and bustled her out the door, winking at Liara as he passed her. Liara mouthed a 'thank you', and turned to see Tali watching her intently.

"You're really worried about her, aren't you, Liara?" the quarian observed.

"I am. She improves every day, but she's still far from over what happened when the Crucible fired. I knew coming here would be difficult for her." Liara sighed. "She won't accept that she's not at fault for this situation."

Tali nodded. "She really isn't. The only blame for the geth still being inactive is the Admiralty Board's. It's within our reach, but they're too afraid—or too self-centred—to try. I'm ashamed to even be associated with them, most of the time." She sighed. "With Koris gone, I've got no real allies. Raan talks a good game, but she caves to the majority all the time. Kar'Danna doesn't empty his suit bladder without Gerrel's permission, and that cantankerous old _bosh'tet_ is really getting as much mileage as he can out of his condition. He says he's dying, but I'm not sure I believe him."

"They don't listen to you at all?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Tali tried for a grin, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. "Why would they do that? They all know so much better than I do what's best for our people in this new society we're building."

"How hard would it be to reactivate the geth, do you think?" Liara asked, curiosity piqued.

"Oh, _keelah_, I'm not completely sure," Tali admitted. "Not too hard, I don't think. I managed to restart EDI, and she's more complex, systematically speaking, but she's a pure machine. There are bioinformatics and physiological processes I'd need to know more about." She wrinkled her nose determinedly. "But I'm going to figure it out."

"I believe you. But even if you do, they wouldn't be the same, would they?" Liara observed. "Their experiences would be different, their perceptions would be coloured by different events. It's not possible for them to evolve the same way twice. EDI's proven that."

"That's true, but they can evolve from a better starting point." Tali cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I never told anyone this before – I was never sure how people would react – but after we got back through the Omega 4 relay, while Shepard was gone on that mission to Batarian space, Legion developed a few hardware issues, and came to me for assistance." Tali grimaced at the memory. "He _trusted_ me to shut him down and restart him; he trusted me to make the repairs. And I did, but… while he was down I took a copy of his neural network, a snapshot of his runtimes. I told myself it was a precaution, a piece of leverage. I downloaded it to a remote drive, and I locked that drive in a box on the Neema, encrypted so that only I could access it, only to be used as a last resort." Tali shook her head despondently. "I'm ashamed now of having done that. I was still so afraid of what the geth might do." She looked up, tears streaming down her face, her expression a mix of guilt and hope. "But now, I think I have a use for it. I can remap it, use it as base template for a geth runtime. They'd be missing six months of their development, and that last Reaper upgrade, but they'd be a lot further along than a build from scratch." She sighed. "I haven't worked out all the details, but I can do it." She looked earnestly into Liara's eyes. "I can bring them back. I know I can."

Liara sat back, stunned, trying to process the information. Tali had… "Let me be sure I understand you correctly. You _copied Legion's brain_?"

Tali nodded guiltily as she wiped her eyes. "I knew I was wrong to do it, but I was still upset by what happened with my father. I wanted to have something to protect myself with."

"However you came by the information," Liara dismissed the quarian's concern, "by far the more important thing is that you _do_ have it. Assuming you can do the research you need to complete your planning, how would you go about it?"

"If I can reactivate one, programmed in Legion's image, and teach it the truth…" Tali trailed off, thinking for a moment. "EDI once said that she thought the mistake the quarians had made with the geth originally was making them all the same. I mapped EDI's personality matrix when I repaired her—the algorithms that govern her, make her responsive to what she learns. I can disseminate that code to the geth, if that initial platform wished it—then they'd all be individuals, right from the start. They'd be free to evolve as they saw fit, but still know the heritage they came from. Yes," Tali nodded emphatically, "it would have to start with a choice. I need to do some more analysis on the platform architecture first, though." Her face fell as a thought struck, her crestfallen expression almost comic in its unguarded emotion. "_Keelah_—I can't do it."

"Why not?" Liara asked.

"All of our resources are committed to the settlement effort. I wouldn't be able to get the computing capacity. And even if I could, well…" Tali threw a furtive glance at the door, "the minute someone found out what I was doing… Let's just say it would make my last trial for treason look warm and fuzzy." She snorted. "Not that the issue of my citizenship is my major worry."

"I can run the analysis for you from the Broker network," Liara offered. "Just let me know what you need."

"Thanks, Liara," Tali replied gratefully. "I really appreciate that– if I try it here and they shut me down I'll lose our chance to do this properly."

The door from the outside hissed open as she spoke, and Garrus looked quizzical as he led Shepard back into the house. "Do what properly?" he enquired.

"Reactivating the geth," Tali replied.

"Oh, that." Garrus flared his mandibles in a grin. "Is that still on our to-do list for next month?"

"Tali…" Shepard was staring at the quarian, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not…" she floundered to halt, took a deep breath and tried again. "You're planning to defy the Admiralty Board?"

"Well, I learned from the best - if it's the right thing to do, better to ask forgiveness than permission." Tali chuckled softly as she clapped Shepard on the shoulder. "If I reactivate one, it'll start a chain reaction that no one will be able to stop."

"You'll get yourself exiled, or executed," Shepard warned.

"I don't care," Tali snorted.

"I do," Shepard retorted. "I don't want you to do this just to make me feel better, Tali."

Tali hooted with laughter. "You really think I'm that fond of you?" She ruffled Shepard's hair affectionately. "I am, as it happens, but this isn't for you, it's for me. I've sacrificed so much to see our people's dream of a homeworld brought to fruition. I dreamed of what our return to this planet would be like, but this? This is the furthest thing from what I imagined." She shook her head. "We've turned our back on the galaxy to wallow in our own problems, even though the Reapers had relatively little impact on us, and we're letting our petty differences tear us to pieces. We have the power to help the geth, ourselves, and everyone else, and we won't do it because we're too damn selfish and scared. I've thought about this long and hard. We've talked it over dozens and dozens of times. And my mind is made up. This isn't what I fought for. This isn't a quarian society I want to be a part of." She tapped her fingers against her discarded facemask. "Not having to wear this isn't enough."

Liara and Shepard exchanged a wry glance. "Funny, I heard myself saying the same thing not too long ago," Shepard remarked. "Earth's going all Cerberus on us. It's not what we fought for, either."

"So we're going to war against the humans and the quarians," Garrus summed up lightly. "Anyone else? The krogan, maybe the asari for good measure? You don't want it to be too easy, do you?"

Shepard managed a chuckle at that. "As long as we leave the Salarians out of it. They cheat."

"Agreed." Garrus chuckled. "All right then. That's as good a plan as any we've ever thought of." He flicked his mandibles. "Better than most of them, actually. But if we're done planning for galactic domination, how about a few of those tasty MREs and a round or two of Skyllian Five?"

* * *

**A/N**: _Well, that was a little longer break than I'd hoped for, sorry folks. I will try to get back into more of a rhythm with this and Asclepius Abides in the coming weeks. Thanks for being patient!_


	12. Missing Links

**Missing Links**

_Dawnfall, Rannoch, Perseus Veil_

Shepard could barely contain her smile as she dropped from the deck of the Kodiak to find Garrus waiting, armed, armoured, and grinning like a kid at Christmas. "Let's get going, Shep," he enthused, punching her shoulder. "You, me, and little Jimmy – just like old times."

Vega grinned as he stepped to the platform and clasped hands warmly with the turian. "_Dios_, Scars, you're a sight for sore eyes. Looking mean and lean, as ever."

"Good to see you too, Vega," Garrus returned. "Have you put on weight?"

Vega puffed out his chest with a grin. "All muscle. Nothin' but prime beef, birdman, nothin' but prime beef." He ducked reflexively as Cailian swiped at his ear from the shuttle deck. "Need to be quicker than that, Bolts," he chuckled.

Garrus laughed, exchanging a nod of greeting with the asari commando, then looked into the shuttle to greet Oraka. "Lieutenant. How's your grandfather?"

"He's well, General, thank you," Oraka returned formally, stiffening to attention.

"I always liked that old raptor," Garrus confided to Shepard. "He was never a very good turian either—we had a lot in common."

"He's a tough old bird," Shepard agreed with a grin. "Not many men can say they tangled with both Sha'ira and Aria T'Loak and lived to tell the tale."

"Not many women, either," Garrus noted with a wink.

"Why are you standing around talking?" Grunt complained from inside the Kodiak. "Don't we have enemies to kill?"

Garrus' eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing. "Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming," he chuckled. Grunt looked out, did a double-take, and roared with approval as he as he jumped down from the shuttle, shaking the landing platform and favouring the turian with a none-too-gentle headbutt.

"Krannt-brother! Ah, our enemies should tremble this day. Not even a Reaper could match our might."

"That's the general idea," Shepard noted, smiling as Garrus shook his head to dispel the effects of the krogan's enthusiasm. "And fun as this is, we have work to do, so let's get going, people."

They reboarded the shuttle, and Cortez had them in the air in moments, heading south over Dawnfall for the drop zone. Shepard activated her omni-tool and brought up a topographic map. "OK, let's go over this one more time. Miri, you reading me?"  
"Loud and clear, Shep," Miranda confirmed over the comms. "Adams has EDI offline while we're in orbit to make a few hardware upgrades," Miranda reported, "So you're stuck with me for tactical analysis today."

"God help us," Shepard mocked.

"He already has, Shepard" Miranda declaimed loftily. "He gave you me."

"Fair point. All right, our objective is an old geth communications hub," Shepard highlighted the location, "eight klicks from the landing zone, south-by-southwest down this river valley. It closes to a ravine about three klicks from the target, and from that point we're on a clock, since there's almost zero cover and good visibility for any defenders. You will need to be on the bounce on the approach. Oraka and Garrus will take point—they have better eyesight than the rest of us, and they sneak better than Grunt."

Grunt shrugged equably. "Krogan don't sneak."

Shepard looked around the squad. "You've all studied the building layout, you all know your waypoints. When I give the go order, you'll advance by squads, sweep for hostiles and secure each room behind you. We're looking for whatever Reaper artefact is controlling the thralls."

"How many hostiles, ma'am?" Corporal Campbell asked.  
"No more than fifteen," Shepard replied. "Tali confirmed the numbers for us. They were civilians, on a survey mission. Kindest thing to do is to end it for them fast." Shepard swallowed hard. "I know none of you like these missions, I know it's a hard thing I'm asking you to do, but we can't let their indoctrination pose a danger to others. Honour their courage in trying to build a better world for their people, remember them as comrades, but don't hesitate."

Grim nods of acceptance rippled round the squad. "OK, then. When we hit the building, Cailian and Grunt, with me. James, you'll take Takagi and Campbell. Garrus, you have Oraka and Hussain. Miranda, any words of wisdom?"

"You'll need to be fast on the approach, as you said. Fortunately, there doesn't seem to be a great deal of activity outside the building, but keep your eyes open. Environmental conditions are stable, so you shouldn't have any weather, and there are no significant energy signatures to imply mounted defensive weaponry."

"You picking anything up inside the building?"

"No. There's a sizable plume of igneous rock near the ravine, and the natural background radiation is interfering with the sensors. I can't get a good read on biometrics or anything else through the noise. I'll see if Sam can help me clean it up while you're on approach."

"One minute to the drop zone, Commander," Cortez reported.

"Copy that, Steve. OK, Miri, stay in touch." Shepard nodded and pulled her helmet on, locking it into place with a now familiar surge of nausea. "Get on the ready line, people."

She looked over at Garrus, and the turian threw her a confident nod as he locked his own helmet. "Just like old times, Shepard," he murmured over a private freak, and she clapped him on the shoulder. "Bragging rights?"

"First to the artefact," Shepard decided. Anything else would be deeply inappropriate.

Garrus cocked his head to one side and unshipped his sniper rifle. "Well, I hope you brought your A-game, Shepard. I imagine you've let yourself go these past few months, with all these badass Spectres around to do your heavy lifting."

Shepard snorted. "Yeah, 'cos I'm seeing a lot of opportunity in your home-on-the-range settler lifestyle for busting caps. I'm betting the only thing you've calibrated lately is Tali's…"

"Commander, you're good to go," Cortez interrupted on the general comm. Shepard exchanged a friendly helmet knock with Garrus, and nodded to Campbell to get the door. "Let's move!"

* * *

_GCV Normandy, Standard Orbit, Rannoch_

"So Tali wants to restart the geth," Sam mused as she deposited a mug of tea on Liara's workstation. "Interesting."

"Thank you, Sam. Do you disapprove of Tali's plan?" Liara enquired.

"Oh not at all. It's high bloody time someone got around to it," Sam clarified, taking a sip from her own mug. "I mean, it's absolutely the right thing to do, isn't it?"

"I think so," Liara agreed. "But many people would disagree."

"Well, everyone and their uncle's got an opinion, of course. But simply having an opinion doesn't make you right."

"So what makes your opinion right, Sam?" Liara asked.

"Oh, well _that's_ easy. I'm always right." Sam batted her eyelids outrageously, and Liara found herself smiling in response. "There," Sam said triumphantly, "that's much better. You've been moping ever since Shepard left."

Liara grimaced guiltily. She was used to having the war room more or less to herself, and Sam's presence, though not unwelcome, was taking a little getting used to. The human had a tendency to chat—more to herself and EDI than to Liara—and as a result she often caught Liara off-guard when she did direct conversation toward her. "I'm always a little worried when she goes ashore without me," she admitted. "Not that my presence reduces the threats any, I just… I don't like waiting, and I don't like being blind."

"I imagine that's hard for you, being so used to all this." Sam waved a hand at the apparatus. "It's like a drug, having all this data. The temptation to just keep looking, check one more thing…"

"Is that why I found you sleeping in here this morning?" Liara observed, smiling as Sam ducked her head.

"No, I stayed up far too late playing chess with EDI," Sam admitted. "Nothing to do with data, I'm afraid." She took a pull from her mug. "But on the topic of AIs, I've been thinking. If Tali has a complete snapshot of the geth's pre-Reaper network, we ought to be able to graft some of that code into EDI's routines and enhance her functions. It's possible we could even achieve parity with her pre-Crucible state."

"Tali wants to use some of EDI's code on the geth, but I have to admit the inverse case had also occurred to me," Liara agreed. "I wasn't certain of the viability of the idea, though. I wondered if I wasn't perhaps simply being too optimistic. Actually, I wondered the same about Tali's plan, if I'm honest."

"No, no I don't think so." Sam set her mug down and hurried over to her terminal station, tapping into the main HUD and bringing up a file directory. "I don't know if you noticed yet, but I'm a hoarder. Never chuck anything out that might be useful."

Liara nodded with a smile. "It's a useful survival trait for underfunded academics. I always managed to eke a few extra fieldtrips out of my grants by stockpiling."

"Right, and we hardly ever got money for new equipment, so when something broke, we cannibalized it." Sam paused for a moment, a wrinkle developing in her forehead. The silence extended, and Liara's smile widened as she recognized the signs of Traynor's thoughts wandering off down a tangent.

_Goddess, she is so like me in so many ways. Or_, she corrected herself wryly, _like me as I used to be._ "Sam?" she prompted after a moment.

Traynor blinked. "What?"

"You were off in your own little galaxy."

"Oh, bugger. Sorry." Traynor took a gulp of her tea to cover the awkward moment. "Um, yes, where was I?"

"Tali not being overly optimistic regarding the geth."

"Right, yes. We've never had a complete set of geth runtimes to work with before. EDI did a lot of self-improvement with the fragments she managed to glean from communications with the geth during the war. Now, her original base was Alliance code, part of the Hannibal project, but it was extensively adapted with Reaper-derived tech and code based on Sovereign. That was why the Crucible beam affected her the way it did."

"The intelligence controlling the Reapers told Shepard that all AIs would be affected," Liara pointed out.

"Which is true from a certain point of view. The only AIs we can definitively say were affected were EDI and the geth—there being no other examples we're aware of—and the common factor between them is Reaper upgrades. The Crucible was designed to target Reapers. Ergo, they shut down, simplest explanation being the most likely and all that."

Liara nodded.

"Precisely what damage the beam did is unclear," Sam continued, "since one might think that the geth, being predominantly non-Reaper in origin, would simply have reverted to their prior state. Regardless, Tali has a complete system map of a working geth, a fully evolved one. She can re-map the whole lot, and produce a simulacrum of Legion, as he was, prior to the war. Then load it to a platform and…" she spread her arms, hands outstretched, "ta-da!"

"It's that simple, is it?" Liara asked, amused.

"Well, no. That part where I said re-map? That's a gargantuan oversimplification. But in principle, if the code is correct, the software works, and that's all there is to it. It's not subject to the vagaries of biological memory, it's much more straightforward." Sam shrugged. "And it only gets you one, not the whole consensus. But from that one, you can multiply, and there must be a massive amount of resource on the geth servers, if the quarians haven't been dismantling them…" She looked up in alarm. "Oh, dear God, they haven't, have they?"

Liara shook her head. "Local to Dawnfall, yes, but they haven't ranged further afield as yet. We need to prevent that from happening. I'll speak to the Council about making the sites protected—the Admiralty Board will scream, but they won't risk Council sanctions for non-compliance."

"Good, so there are numerous data sources we can use to provide background data. And having an actual geth process its own development would be far quicker and more efficient than having programmers do it. It only takes one collision to start a chain reaction." Sam cocked her head. "So it's optimistic, but not too optimistic."

"Glad I checked," Liara said dryly, and Sam coloured even more.

"Ooh, God, you should just tell me to shut up when I start to waffle on like that," she complained.

"Not at all. I'm delighted with your enthusiasm. I was just teasing you." Liara smiled a reassurance. "So, at the risk of another data dump, how can you relate this to EDI?"

"Well, Tali did a lot of the repairs using geth-based code, since that was what she was more familiar with. So presumably, from that foundation, if I have Legion's map, I can re-code some of the functions that were previously managed using Reaper programming. Probably not everything, but enough to make some significant improvements. And—back to my distant initial point about being a hoarder—I have all of the development records for the Hannibal project, which is still her foundational code base. So I can tinker a bit with that too. With her permission, of course."

"That sounds good to me, and I'm sure EDI will approve," Liara noted, pleased to see that Sam was enthused by the idea. "And I'd like you to take the lead in helping Tali. I lack the technical expertise. Gabby has volunteered to help out with any hardware and power issues, so you should talk to her about it. Discreetly, of course."

"Marvellous." Sam grinned happily. "I do enjoy a good conspiracy."

"Then you're going to love working with me," Liara chuckled.

"I already do, Liara," Sam admitted. "This room," she waved a hand at the apparatus, "might very well be my idea of heaven."

Even as she spoke, the doors hissed open to admit Miranda, and the Spectre arched her eyebrows in amusement as she approached. "Well, I'm sorry to ruin the moment, but if Liara doesn't need you urgently right now, Samantha, I could do with your help."

"Is there a problem with the shore party?" Liara asked, concern pricking at the edges of her thoughts.

"Just a technical issue. There are some environmental radiation outputs mucking up our sensor data for the engagement zone. Can you take a look at it and see if there's anything you can do to clean it up?"

"Of course." Sam drained her tea and set her mug down. "I'll be in CIC if you need me, then."

"Thanks, Sam," Miranda said as the younger woman headed out. She regarded Liara with a smile. "She seems to be settling in well."

"Very," Liara agreed. "She's going to be a huge help."

"And it's cute, how alike the two of you are. Looks like Shep's not the only one around here with a clone."

"Very funny, Miranda."

"I try." The XO winked. "I'd better get back to it. If a grown-up's not watching the shore party, they'll just get themselves into trouble."

"Hmmm. Rachel, Garrus, Grunt, and James…" Liara chuckled. "You're right. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

_Geth Control Hub, Rannoch, Perseus Veil_

The silence was loud.

Sweeping the hub had been the work of minutes—of the fifteen quarian scouts who'd fallen under the Reaper's influence, seven had already died from complications arising from torn suits and environmental exposure. The indoctrination had made them careless. The eight who remained were in little better condition, mostly incoherent and raving, but fit enough to raise weapons and open fire when they saw the team. Having spared them a slow, lingering death was the thinnest of silver linings, but one that Shepard intended to take.

Now, though, a new worry was beginning to nag at Shepard's thoughts as she completed her search of the sector she'd appointed her team. They hadn't found the artefact.

"There's nothing here, Shepard," Grunt rumbled as he stepped out of the room he'd been searching. "No tech that isn't geth."

Cailian shook her head. "I couldn't find anything either," she reported.

"Nor me," Shepard agreed. "Hopefully one of the other teams has it." She clicked on her comms. "Garrus, James, report. You found anything?"

"Negative," Garrus replied. "Heading back to your position now."

"It's not here, Lola," Vega stated wearily. "We've looked in every rathole in the whole damn complex. There's no Reaper tech anywhere, it's all just smashed-up geth junk."

"OK, James," Shepard acknowledged reluctantly. "Miri, anything on the scans?"

"Nothing," Miranda responded. "Sam's cleaned up the sensor data as much as she can, but as far as I can tell there are no emissions on any frequency that might indicate Reaper tech. I can reconfirm that retroactively when EDI's back on line, but the location appears to be clear."

"I don't get it," Shepard muttered. "The behavior patterns all check out; it must be here somewhere."

"Maybe they moved it to another location?" Garrus suggested as he joined them, followed by Oraka and PFC Hussain.

"That doesn't fit our observed pattern," Miranda replied. "In all the cases we've seen so far, the confrontation has been provoked because the thralls were protecting their control source. They never seem to want to wander far from it. But it's a possibility I can't discount without better data."

"We'll widen the search to the immediate area around the hub," Shepard decided, "and if that doesn't throw anything up, EDI can do a wider scan when she's back online. If we still can't pick it up, then the best thing we can do is warn the quarians that the source may still be active and to treat the whole area as quarantined."

"You don't want to get some help and check the canyons?" Cailian asked.

"No," Shepard decided. "That just ends up putting more people at risk. And we could spend our whole lives searching these ravines and come up blank."

The wider search also yielded nothing, and after an hour, Shepard called time. "OK, people, let's hit the trail. Miri, you have the geomarker for EDI, right?"

"Affirmative."

"Then that's as good as this is going to get. Move out."

Garrus fell into step with her as they began the hike back to the pick-up point. "This bothers you," he observed.

"I don't like leaving booby-traps out where people can walk into them," Shepard agreed.

"It's contained for now. The quarians know the risk is there, so really, it's not likely that anyone else is going to get curious. Leastways they won't when I share the images of the consequences around Dawnfall." He sighed. "That should curb their enthusiasm for exploring for a while."

"What's it like living with the quarians?" Shepard asked curiously.

"Invasive," Garrus chuckled. "They're so used to everything being communal that it never occurs to them to knock before entering a room or that there's any conceivable reason why you wouldn't want eight or ten or twelve of your neighbours and cousins to suddenly show up with dinner and stay for eight hours." His mandibles flared in a laugh. "Tali's got a lot of cousins, and they were all pretty offended when they found out that all of the doors on our house lock and I wasn't going to share the code. Tali blamed it all on me, but secretly I think she's quite glad of the privacy. She has enough crap to deal with during the day without it spilling into what little downtime she allows herself."

"Well, an overprotective turian is always a handy thing to have around, I find," Shepard grinned. "But seriously, G, all joking aside, aren't you bored?"

"A lot of the time," he admitted. "But it's not that easy to pick up and go. I think Tali wants to, if she's honest—the conversation last night should give you some insight there—but she's not ready to cut the cord yet." He shrugged. "I'm patient, and she's worth waiting for. We'll get back out there sometime, Shepard. Sooner rather than later if this madcap plan comes off."

"Well, now that Liara and Sam are involved, it'll probably spiral out of all control," Shepard chuckled.

"True." Garrus shot her a sidelong glance. "Is this where you ask me to join the crew again?"

"No." Shepard bumped his shoulder with a fist. "I know if you felt you could you'd be there already. I know I don't have to ask." She met his gaze with a smile. "And I know that if I really need you…"

"You also don't have to ask," Garrus agreed. "Say the word and I'll be there. About two weeks later, but I'll be there."

Shepard laughed, feeling the weight of the mission lift from her shoulders. "I miss you, bro," she admitted, slinging an arm around his narrow waist. "It's been good to see you."

Garrus hooked his arm around her neck and squeezed. "Yeah. Yeah, it's been good. Don't leave it so long next time, all right?"

"I won't."


	13. Hypotheticals

**Hypotheticals**

_SSV Orizaba, Citadel Orbit, Sol System_

"Keep your seats," Hannah Shepard ordered her command staff as she stepped into her flagship's briefing room. "I feel like some kind of obedience trainer when you all jump up like that." A rumble of good-natured laughter rippled around the room, echoed from the QEC station, and she settled into her seat at the head of the table with a smile. "All right, good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is our weekly senior staffs." She tipped a nod to Commander Ramachandra, her chief-of-staff. "Let's get cracking, starting with logistics. Baz?"

"Thank you, ma'am," Ramachandra responded. "The Citadel continues to report as stable but critical. Repairs on the civilian docking sectors are now estimated at sixty-eight percent complete—there's been a slowdown in recent weeks thanks to resources being diverted to the relay restoration project."

"What about the military docks?" Hannah asked.

"Fully operational, and at our disposal. We'll be resupplying from there from now on. In terms of logistics it's more efficient for the Alliance to ship our supplies to the Citadel for us to collect—the larger, specialized docking bays mean it's a lot easier for our capital ships to taken on supplies and fuel, rather than relying on shuttle relays and tankers."

"Well that's good news," Hannah remarked. "Anything that improves our operational efficiency and our range is a good thing."

"Does that mean we're getting let off the leash?" one of her captains enquired, a little too eagerly for Hannah's liking.

"Not as far as I'm aware," Hannah replied, "but I like to be ready for the unusual and the unexpected. The outlook is improving day by day, but that doesn't mean anyone's ready to start taking unnecessary risks." She fixed the officer with a cool gaze, and he subsided.

"Other than that," Ramachandra continued after an awkward pause, "logistically we are very much in our regular holding pattern. Our first rotation through the Citadel docks will be in two days for victualling and refueling."

"Good. Draw up a schedule, Commander, prioritizing according to fuel reserves," Hannah instructed. The ships under her command were an odd hodge-podge of classes—the Alliance had dragged any hulk that could be reconstituted out of the salvage yards to plug the gaps left by the fleets lost at Arcturus. Two of the ships in the group had seen service in the First Contact War and had, in the words of her flagship's chief engineer 'engines so dirty even Fornax wouldn't publish.' Their crews had developed a perverse sense of pride about their boats, though—rumour had it they'd nicknamed them "the matriarchs". Officially, Hannah couldn't approve of that, but given that mention of "the dirty matriarchs" tended to conjure memories of Aethyta's tall tales and filthy laugh, she didn't have the heart to issue any reprimands_. Just as long as no-one says it in front of any of the asari fleet captains_.

"Aye aye, ma'am," Ramachandra agreed.

The rest of the sitreps didn't take long—patrol duty in home systems never threw up much in the way of procedural deviations—and fifteen minutes later Hannah was walking back toward her ready room with her flagship CO, Captain Nathan Malbranque at her side. "The natives are getting a little restless, ma'am," he observed.

"I noticed that," Hannah agreed. "Can't say I blame them."

Nate looked amused. "Are you bored, ma'am?"

"No," Hannah replied. "I have plenty to do keeping you lot in line, but I understand it's wearing for the crews to fly in endless circles around the Citadel when there's no real threat. It never takes long for people to become bored with a static routine."

Malbranque cocked an eyebrow. "Usually I'd suggest combat drills, but I'm not sure how our allies would react."

"We could ask them, I guess." Hannah scratched at her chin thoughtfully. "I'd bet a few credits that the turians would go for the idea of a couple of war games to keep them sharp." She grinned at Malbranque. "Yes, I think that would work nicely. Not just a hat rack, are you, Nate?"

He laughed with her, well inured to her style after twenty-odd years of friendship. Nate was a first-class tactician and a capable leader, but he had never been an ambitious man, content to take his time and make the most of each of his postings. When Hackett had finally cornered Hannah and forced her to accept a flag, her first pull of rank had been to shuck Malbranque out of his comfortable billet captaining a cruiser in the Third Fleet and drop command of the _Orizaba_ in his lap. He'd sworn at her a few times, protested loudly that he was going to hate it, and within a week of stepping aboard had grudgingly confessed that he'd never had a better ship or crew.

"So you'll ask the turians?" he prodded when they'd caught their breath.

"I will. Meantime you might consider a few scenarios to test your own crew with. You're no Tadius Ahern, but I imagine you can come up with a few nasty twists to our regular drills."

Malbranque grinned sharkishly. "Oh, I can be mean," he assured her. "You want in on it, or would you prefer to be surprised?"

Hannah grinned back. "Bring it on, Captain. I can still show these kids how it's done."

"Yes, ma'am." He winked. "Is there anything else you need right now, ma'am?"

"No, thanks, Nate. Dismissed."

"Admiral." He braced perfunctorily to attention, then picked up his pace, striding off toward the CIC as Hannah turned into her ready room.

Lieutenant Commander Meyer, her chief-of-staff, flashed a smile as Hannah stepped inside. She didn't bother with the formalities—Hannah had given her a direct order early on that in private there was no need for all the snapping-to and salute polishing. _You're here to help administrate the battle group, not to make me feel important. I can't have you jumping out of your seat every time I need to scratch an itch._

"Ma'am," the young woman greeted her respectfully, "perfect timing, I was just about to comm you. Admiral Hackett's just commed—he's on his way over."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, ma'am."

"Hmm. Have Captain Malbranque roust out Boats and some sideboys and get down there. What's his ETA?"

Meyer checked her chrono. "Two minutes."

"All right, I'd better go meet him. Can you make sure there's some coffee and some water, and then make yourself scarce? I'll holler if I need you."

"Aye aye, Admiral."

"Thanks, LC. Carry on." Hannah turned about and hustled down to the airlock behind the command centre, arriving just as the pressurization indicator flicked to green. Boats, properly the Master Chief Boatswain's Mate, snapped the honour guard of eight sideboys to attention at Malbranque's nod, and four ruffles and flourishes piped across the loudspeaker as Hackett stepped through the hatch. He cocked an eyebrow at Hannah, and she ducked her head to mask a grin—he hated the pomp of his rank, and she never lost an opportunity to rag him about it.

Scowling, Hackett turned to Malbranque. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

"Granted, Admiral," Malbranque replied, snapping off a crisp salute. "Welcome aboard the _Orizaba_, sir."

"Thank you, Captain," Hackett responded. "There's no need to stand on ceremony, I just dropped by for a word with Admiral Shepard. You can fall out the honour guard and get back to work."

"Aye aye, sir." Malbranque nodded to Boats, and the grizzled old chief bawled his cohort of ratings back down the passageway as Hannah shook Hackett's offered hand.

"Nice to see you, sir."

"You're a pain in the ass, sometimes, you know that?"

"In my defence, sir, I do know that."

"Something for you to work on if you expect to see a decent pro-con report for this year." Hackett grinned at her.

"Ouch," Hannah murmured as she showed him into the office. "So, is this official business, sir?"

Hackett made a show of looking around, his levity fading as quickly as it had blossomed. "Do you see Major Friedrich, Hannah?"

"No, sir."

"Stephen," he corrected patiently.

"Stephen," she repeated. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"You certainly can. Along with a glass of whisky, a gun, and two bullets."

Hannah frowned. "That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?"

Hackett sighed. "Maybe not. We're off the record, by the way, in case that needs stated."

Hannah nodded. "Stephen, what is it?"

"Have you been watching the news lately?"

"No," Hannah admitted. "Well, not the local news, anyway. I'm somewhat allergic to our glorious leader's incoherent rants, and his tirades about my daughter's treasonous love for the other races. He makes me break out with a bad case of itchy trigger finger."

Hackett grimaced. "Well, wait till you see this." He pulled a datapad from his attaché case and handed it over.

Hannah scanned through the summary paragraph at the top of the report, unease stirring in her stomach as she read. "They can't be serious," she muttered. "Cession of all sovereign rights of all nation states to the Systems Alliance Parliament, thereby creating one government, the better to serve the needs of all humanity equally? Is he out of his mind?"

"That's what I thought at first, but he's been out there lobbying for this since he was elected, and the public support is overwhelming."

Hannah snorted derisively. "How long before he proposes building a wall around Sol, do you think?"

"Ah, he'll only do that if he can get the Council to pay for it," Hackett jibed.

Hannah shook her head, and flicked down to the video, a clip of one of Saracino's public speaking events, frowning uneasily as she watched the crowd screaming their approval and applause, chanting the Prime Minister's name with a religious fervor. "Jesus," she muttered. "That's scary."

"A group of protestors were damn near beaten to death outside the stadium," Hackett noted. "And assaults on aliens are on the rise. The rhetoric he's wielding is pretty inflammatory stuff."

"Why bother carrying on with the rallies, though?" Hannah wondered. "He's been elected already."

"Because the mob is an efficient method of extortion," Hackett replied. "He's telling everyone who'll listen that his proposal is the will of humanity, and that he can't be held responsible for the repercussions if self-interested local bureaucrats deny the people's demand to build a better society."

"Vote for this, or we riot?" Hannah queried incredulously.

"Essentially. It's going to pass—I got it confirmed through one of Westerlund's reporters, who called me to ask for a quote." Hackett's usual gruff frown was tinged with worry. "The public referendum will be a landslide, and it'll leave the state governments with their backs to the wall."

"And a last cigarette in the sunshine. Shit." Hannah scratched at her chin. "So you subsume all the state governments, all of their infrastructure, all of their resources. Superficially, in a time of desperate crisis, that seems like a sensible move, and it masks the fact that you're centralizing executive authority."

"Then you use your overwhelming parliamentary majority to whip through reforms that consolidate more and more power in the executive."

"He's building a dictatorship," Hannah summed up. "But why?"

"God knows," Hackett replied, "but it's unlikely to be for anything so altruistic as the good of all humankind." He strode across to the viewport to look out at the Citadel.

Hannah chewed at her lower lip as she thought. If Saracino was building a cult of popularity to boost his power base, then any public figure who disagreed with him would become a natural target for his campaigns. And the man standing at the bulkhead had been a more vocal critic than most. "Stephen, do you have protection?"

"Me?" Hackett turned back from the viewport, surprised. "I'd have thought you'd have been more worried about Rachel, given the media campaign that's been levelled against her in the past few weeks."

Hannah smiled as she remembered her last meeting with her daughter and her wife. "Rachel's plenty well protected. Liara casually offered to overthrow the Alliance government after that altercation the other week, and I don't think she was entirely joking."

Hackett grunted. "Maybe you should have let her."

Hannah met his gaze worriedly. "Maybe I should have."

* * *

_GCV Normandy, Caleston Rift Approach Vector, Terminus Systems_

"Chakwas to Shepard."

"Shepard here, Doc, what's up?"

"Do you have a moment for me, Commander?"

"Sure. Shall I come down to your lair?"

"No, I'll come up to the war room. I could use a change of scenery, and I think Miranda and Liara might also be interested in what I have to report."

"OK, I'll see you there in a few minutes. Shepard out." Shepard looked over at Traynor, who was the duty officer. "Sam, would you have Miranda report to the war room, please."

"Aye aye, Commander," Traynor responded.

"EDI, Mr. Beltran has the deck," Shepard instructed, smiling wryly as she saw the sudden curl of Traynor's lip. The Navigator had not endeared himself to Traynor on the three-week trip back to the relay with his stiff-assed approach to rank and protocol and his less-than-subtle attempts at flirting.

"Logged. Commander Beltran has the deck. The Commanding Officer stands relieved."

"Play nice, Sam," Shepard advised.

"I will if he does," Traynor muttered derisively, and Shepard bit back an unprofessional snigger, patted Sam on the shoulder and headed into the war room.

Liara was in residence, slouched in her chair with her feet propped up on the safety railing as she read incoming reports. She didn't react to the hiss of the doors, engrossed in whatever she was looking at, and the sight made Shepard smile. "Liara?"

"Mmm?" Liara did not look up from her datapad.

"We're crashing again."

"Mmm..." There was a moment of silence, then Liara started, feet slipping to the floor as she looked around wildly. "What?"

Shepard burst out laughing. "You were a million klicks away." She tipped a nod to the pad. "What's so fascinating?"

Liara threw her a dirty look. "Nothing you need to know about. Not everything I'm working on is mission-related. And for the record, jokes about incidents that have resulted in near- or actual-death experiences for you are not something I find especially amusing."

Shepard winced as she realized she'd hit a nerve, but Miranda and Karin's arrival denied her a chance to apologize. She threw her bondmate a penitent look as the doctor activated the central display and dimmed the lights, but Liara looked away, the faint trace of a frown indicating that her displeasure had not been the least bit softened. _Damn it._

"All right, let's begin," Karin said briskly. "As you all know, I've been performing autopsies on some of the indoctrination victims we've been encountering on our recent missions, looking for clues as to how the process might work."

"Looking for a cure," Miranda summed up.

"As an ultimate goal, yes. But I've discovered something disturbing."

Shepard screwed one eye shut and regarded Miranda wryly. "And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet."

"You had six months," Miranda noted dryly. "That's about the usual timetable for the resumption of galactic mayhem, isn't it?"

Liara scowled. "Could you two perhaps let Karin talk?"

_Oh, I'm in deep trouble and no mistake_. Chagrined, Shepard nodded to Chakwas. "Sorry, Doc. Go ahead."

Chakwas brought up two tables that compared a list of variables. "These are the compositions of two samples of cerebrospinal fluid. The one on the left was taken from a decedent after the mission on Benning two months ago; the one on the right is my own. The results are obviously not entirely identical, that's to be expected."

"OK, so what are we looking at?" Shepard asked, content to be considered the dumbest person in this particular company.

"There," Miranda pointed at a line in the indoctrination victim's readout near the bottom. "That's not a protein I recognise."

"Good eyes, Miranda," Chakwas confirmed, sounding pleased. "That particular chemical is not present in my scan, nor in the scans of various other crew members that I have on file. In and of itself, that's simply an interesting anomaly but now let's compare it to a sample from one of the krogan victims on Tuchanka." Chakwas' results disappeared, and a new table replaced it.

"The same chemical," Liara noted, eyes narrowing as she concentrated.

"I checked Grunt's records, and that chemical is absent," Chakwas continued. "And it's present here in the same concentration as in the human victim, which is odd, because the makeup of krogan cerebrospinal fluid is different to that of a human. Now, here's the turian version. Again, not present in a non-indoctrinated subject, and this time it's the dextro enantiomer."

"So you're telling me what, exactly? In simple English?" Shepard asked, wanting to be sure she was following.

"There's a biological fingerprint for indoctrination that we can run a scan for," Miranda explained. "For both levo and dextro lifeforms. That's nice work, Karin."

"It's a start," Chakwas conceded modestly. "I compared the results to the one other known victim of Reaper indoctrination for whom I had available data." She paused and gave Liara a sympathetic look. "This marker is present in significant concentration in Benezia T'Soni's port-mortem scans. Whether it's the control mechanism or simply a waste product will be harder to pinpoint; the higher dose in Benezia's system could be a result of either time or the fact that she fought so hard against it. But that's not all I wanted to tell you." The doctor brought up a fourth sample. "This is where it gets rather more interesting. This scan is from one of the quarian victims. If I compare it to the turian..."

"The marker's not there," Miranda interjected, surprised.

"No."

"But the quarians were indoctrinated, I'd swear it," Shepard protested. "They were exhibiting all the usual behaviour patterns."

"Unless they were indoctrinated by something else," Liara suggested, and Chakwas nodded, a teacher pleased by her pupils.

"Precisely so, Liara. There _is_ a marker, a very similar protein, in the quarian's result, but it's not identical, so not, I would hypothesize, the result of the same process."

"Close, but no cigar," Shepard muttered, then, as realisation struck, she felt the blood draining from her face. "Oh, shit." Rattled, she lifted her gaze to meet Liara's, and her bondmate nodded slowly, unwillingly.

"Rachel..." she breathed.

"Shep, what is it?" Miranda asked.

"Let's not contaminate the doc's theory just yet." Shepard turned to Chakwas. "You've got scans of my brain, right?"

"A great many of them," Karin chuckled. "All confirming that, yes, you do actually have one."

"Ha. You should tour. Could you pull up any record you have from after our mission to Despoina during the war."

Karin nodded, working her omni-tool, and pulled up the scan a moment later. "What am I looking for?"

"The same marker as the quarian, the levo version."

Chakwas frowned. "Yes... yes, it's there, a very low concen..." She looked up with a snort of disgust. "Oh, good God, I must be on the cusp of my dotage - how could I _not_ have thought of that?"

"Would someone _please_ fill me in?" Miranda demanded impatiently.

"Sure, Miri," Shepard said reluctantly. "It's Leviathan."


	14. Don't Forget Your Toothbrush

**Don't Forget Your Toothbrush**

_GCV Normandy, Caleston Rift Approach Vector, Terminus Systems_

"Shepard to Traynor."

"Go ahead, ma'am."

"Can you join us in the war room, please, Sam?"

"On my way, Commander," Sam acknowledged. She placed a call to one of her team to take over her bridge shift, then hurried through to the war room. Having cover for her shifts was certainly a novelty she had taken to; during the war there had been too few crew aboard to rotate duties much, and Sam vividly remembered wondering if she'd ever sleep again. _The perks of peacetime_.

Shepard nodded a greeting as she stepped into the war room. "Hey, Sam. All right," she called the meeting to order, "Liara, do you want to recap for Sam's benefit, please?"

The asari nodded. "Dr. Chakwas believes she has isolated a protein marker that reliably identifies Reaper indoctrination victims. It's consistent across a number of known victims of varied species. We believe we've also isolated a marker for indoctrination by Leviathan."

"Bloody hell." Sam frowned as she thought. "So if you can identify it, can you cure it?"

"The sixty-four-million credit question," Chakwas chuckled. "I don't know yet."

"The quarians we dealt with on Rannoch were indoctrinated by Leviathan rather than the Reapers," Shepard continued where Liara had left off. "They were the crew of a scout vessel that until recently had been on patrol in the Perseus Veil. When they returned home, they set up their own shelter away from the other settlements, and we're pretty much unremarked upon until some of their nearest neighbours got a little too close."

"So you think Leviathan's hiding in the Perseus Veil?"

"We don't know," Liara admitted. "They may just have found an indoctrination orb. They may have found something more. Either way, the inference is disturbing."

"Tali's sent us the scout ship's log, nav data, and communications records," Shepard picked up. "I'd like an analysis done, to see if we can learn anything."

"I'll get right on it," Sam promised.

"Great, thanks. Before you go, can you see if you can get in touch with Ann Bryson, please?" Shepard looked around the group. "If Leviathan is making its presence felt, then Ann's vulnerable. We need to warn her. And also, no one knows more about it than she does, and we could probably do with the help."

Sam fired up the long-range comm command board, punching in the archaeologist's contact details, but there was no response. "She's not answering her private comms or her lab extension," she offered, running an activity trace against the communications ID. "Hasn't checked her comm traffic in... oh." She looked up, worried. "Nearly two days."

"That's unusual for an active researcher, right, Li?" Shepard asked.

"It's unusual for _anyone_," Liara replied after a moment. "Service blackouts notwithstanding, most people do not go more than about eight hours at a maximum - twelve if they're Elcor - without checking their comms."

"While they're sleeping." Traynor nodded agreement. "So something's not right."

Shepard frowned thoughtfully. "I don't like this. Liara, see what you can dig up in a general search - if we can't get in touch with Ann we'll need all the secondary data we can piece together. EDI, pool your data from our previous investigation with Liara's - see if the two of you can come up with some theories we can chase down. What's our ETA to Caleston?"

"Fifteen minutes."  
"Right. Joker?" Shepard raised her voice to catch the intercom trigger.

"Yeah, what's up?" the pilot replied.

"Set a course to the Citadel, please. See if you can get us a berth close to the Alliance diplomatic quarter."

"You got it."

The commander looked over at Sam with a weighing look in her eyes, one that the signals office recognized all too well. "Say, Traynor?" she said in a speculative tone.

"Yes, ma'am?"  
"What's your feeling about a little field trip?"

Sam blinked. "Ummm... dubious anticipation?"

Shepard laughed. "Relax, Sam, I'm not proposing you join an assault team. We're just going to pay a visit to Ann Bryson's lab, see if we can pinpoint her whereabouts from there. Also, there's a shedload of data on Leviathan that Ann has on file - if we're right about what happened on Rannoch, I want to know as much as possible about what we're dealing with."

"Oh, you mean a techie field trip? Well, that's totally different. Love to. Absolutely."

"Mind if I tag along, Shep?" Miranda asked.

"Be my guest."

"How tooled up should we be?"

"Sidearms and shield emitters only," Shepard decided. "I don't think we'll need hardsuits for a house call."

"Don't tempt fate, ma'am," Traynor requested plaintively. "Would I be out of line in asking you to go outside, turn around three times and spit?"

Shepard considered it. "Depends on what you mean by outside, I suppose." Smiling, she checked her chronometer. "OK, thank you, all. Karin, good catch - keep yourself available for comm traffic while we check this out, please. Miranda, Sam, meet me in the docking bay in thirty minutes."

oOoOo

_Project Aurora Task Force HQ, Citadel, Sol System_

The garden area outside the lab was an even tighter landing space than Shepard remembered, with new stacks of cargo crates and equipment massed around the perimeter walls. "Looks like Dr. Bryson's been expanding operations," she remarked as they climbed out of the cab. "I wonder what she's researching?"

"Looks like something that requires planetary expeditions," Traynor suggested, waving a hand at a pile of flat-pack prefabs. Shepard grunted agreement. She looked hopefully around the lab as they stepped inside, but there was no movement, no sound to greet them. "Huh. Doesn't look like she's home."

"Doesn't look like she's been home for a while," Miranda corrected. A thin layer of dust coated most of the desks and terminals, evidence that they'd lain undisturbed for at least a couple of days.

"Right." Shepard led them over to the main data display, and a shiver ran through her. "This is where I was standing when Leviathan took control of Ann's father's assistant and blew him away. And where I saw Ann being taken over, lose her mind and will to an alien billions of miles away." She shook her head. "It's still one of the creepiest things I've ever seen, and I've seen a _lot_ of creepy."

"With all due respect, ma'am, you're freaking me out," Traynor complained. "Especially with that chunk of Reaper just sitting back there."

"Just count your blessings the husk head isn't here anymore," Shepard chuckled. "Damn thing screamed if you got anywhere near it. Vega wanted to take it home."

Sam shuddered. "Did you let him?"

"Hell, no. D'you think I'm stupid enough to give James ammo like that for his practical jokes?"

"Of course not, ma'am," Sam mugged, tone dripping with exaggerated sincerity, and Shepard chuckled, pleased that Traynor was loosening up a bit.

"It's an impressive setup," Miranda noted. "Someone spared no expense in setting up this lab - I can easily see Mordin being at home here."

"Project Aurora was being bankrolled by Hackett to discover tech and potential weapons for use against the Reapers. He didn't skimp on the budget." Shepard nodded at the display. "There's got to be information here we can use." She tapped the activate button, and the screen resolved into a passcode lock. "Huh. Sam, can you do anything with that?"

Traynor rocked her hand uncertainly. "I don't know, Commander. If it's military-grade security, I might need something with a little more processing power than my omni-tool." She bent over the keyboard for a moment, entering a few commands, then stepped back with a shake of her head. "It's eyes-only ultraviolet. I could try it, but I'd be flying blind, and one wrong attempt will wipe the system. Without a VI to process the variables, I'd almost be pushing buttons at random. I'm sorry."

"Well, let's avail ourselves of our resident criminal mastermind, shall we? Shore party to Normandy. EDI, I need to speak to Liara on vid."

"Standby, Commander."

Shepard's omni-vid screen popped up and resolved into Liara's image. "Shepard, what do you need?"

Shepard swung around so that the screen would be in Liara's field of vision. "Liara, are you seeing this?"

"Yes," Liara confirmed, leaning forward to peer at it. "Sam can't hack it?"

"I'm not sure I should," the lieutenant replied dubiously. "It's a mil-grade security protocol. If I try cracking it bareback we might lose everything on the servers."

Liara nodded. "You're right to be cautious. Wait a moment, let me just... there. Shepard, I'm transmitting Glyph to your omni-tool. If you download it, it will be able to interface Ann's database directly to my network. It should be able to override the security."

"You made that little pervert supportable via the extranet?" Shepard enquired incredulously as she activated the download.

"Yes, I did. Transmission complete. In time, you might find that with Glyph more mobile, I'm surplus to requirement."

"Bite your tongue," Shepard chided. "It'll be a cold day in hell that I think I need Glyph more than you. But why would you want to let it loose on an unsuspecting public?"

"I like to be prepared," Liara replied primly. "You never know when you might need an analysis drone. Or a high-security server hacked."

"Or incriminating photos of notable people engaging in dubious liaisons?"

"Well," Liara chuckled, "since you're the most notable person in the vicinity, should I be worried?"

"I'll let you find out from Glyph. All right, I'm downloading it now, but you can't hold me responsible if I end up shooting it a few times."

"Please try to resist that temptation. I've invested quite a lot of effort in it, and it is actually useful. Besides which, I seem to recall an incident in an archive where it actually saved our lives, so your negativity rather smacks of ingratitude." The asari grinned as Shepard stuck out her tongue in retort. "I love you too. Call me when you have something?"

"Will do."

The vid window snapped shut, and Shepard's omni-tool beeped. She sighed, then hit the flashing tab. Glyph materialised before them, spinning madly. "Good afternoon, Commander. How may I be of service?"

"I need you to hack into the servers in the lab. Everything is of interest, but place priority on Dr. Bryson's communications, most recent projects, and anything that might give us a clue as to her whereabouts."

"Understood, Commander." Glyph spun for a few moments, then spoke again. "Security bypassed."

"Damn. I feel rather inadequate," Traynor quipped.

"Don't feel bad. Glyph may be quicker at hacking, but it can't wield a toothbrush the way you can," Shepard chuckled.

Traynor blushed, and Miranda looked intrigued. "Is there a story here that I'm missing?"

"No, not at all," Traynor said, too quickly. Miranda cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

"Come on, Traynor, you..."

"Commander, if I may," Glyph cut in, "you should know that, according to my sensors, we are not..."

Gunfire erupted from the upper balcony.

The window behind them shattered with a deafening crack, showering the three women and the floor around them in shards of glass. Throwing an arm up to protect her eyes, Shepard dived for cover as her shields collapsed, her enhanced reflexes getting her moving before she thought. As she hit the floor behind the desk, she was already looking for her target and her comrades. Miranda, similarly blessed with reaction speed by the gene therapy that defined her physical being, had got herself quickly behind a cabinet. Traynor hadn't been so lucky, lying flat out in the middle of the floor, hands clutching at her abdomen as she screamed in pain. _Shit_, Shepard cursed as she pulled her sidearm, forcing herself to concentrate on the threat. Risking a glance round the edge of the desk, she spotted their assailant, a turian with a submachine gun on the balcony above them. Thanking whatever random deities were watching that the enemy had chosen his weapon poorly, she exchanged a quick nod with Miranda. As her shields flared blue, she popped out of cover, bringing her pistol to bear as she charged forward.

The turian, focused on her advance, neglected to watch for Miranda as he sprayed the air with shots. Consequently, the warp that smacked into him caught him completely off guard, and as he staggered forward to try and recover his balance, he tumbled over the balcony to the floor below, his skull impacting on the hard deck with a sickening, wet crunch. The opportunity to question him had gone begging, but Shepard had more pressing concerns as she scrambled over the broken glass to where Traynor lay, Miranda hard on her heels. "Sam!"

A dazed groan answered her as she skidded to a halt by the lieutenant. Sam lay with one hand clamped to her abdomen, blood seeping slowly from between her fingers. Shepard hastily ran a scan with her omni-tool, sagging with relief as the medical diagnostic showed Traynor's wound to be relatively minor, a through-and-through that had thankfully missed anything vital. "Sam, can you hear me? You're going to be fine."

"Fine?" Sam wheezed. "I've been shot! I'm dying, aren't I?"

"You're _not_ dying, Sam."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better. I've seen the movies."

_Keep her talking_, Miranda mouthed at Shepard as she pulled a tube of medigel from Shepard's utility belt.

"Yeah, right, OK, Traynor, you win," Shepard continued as Miranda applied the gel and checked her omni-tool. "Given your extensive experience with combat and gunshot trauma, of course you know better than me. You're dying. Any last requests?"

"I knew it," Sam groaned. "You can't fool me. Ooh, that's cold, Miranda! Damn, I never thought... kiss me, Shepard."

"Excuse me?"

"My last request, Commander. I want you to kiss me. Just once."

"Nuh-uh. Not happening." Shepard pulled a frantic face at Miranda.

"It's painkillers," Miranda muttered, voice pitched for Shepard's ears alone. "She's self-administered a double dose. She's going to be in orbit for the next hour, unless she passes out first. I can't do anything with it until some of it flushes out of her system." Miranda chewed her lip, trying desperately to restrain her amusement. "She might get hysterical if you can't placate her."

Shepard glared at her XO through narrowed, suspicious eyes. "You're yanking my chain. You seriously think I should indulge this?"

Miri shrugged, no longer even trying to hide her mirth. "Sorry, Shep. Denial might just make her more determined."

"Oh for crying out loud," Shepard growled, exasperated. "Liara's gonna kill me if she finds out."

"_When_ she finds out," Miranda corrects mischievously. "That's what you get for marrying the Shadow Broker."

"You're not helping, Miri," Shepard groused as she knelt beside the sky-high Lieutenant. "Traynor, how're you doing?"

"I can't feel my legs... my body. I'm slipping away. Please, Commander..."

"You're going to be mortified when you wake up later and everything's fine, you know," Shepard muttered. "In fact, I, mmph…" She cut off with a muffled yelp as Traynor threw her arms around her neck with surprising strength and glued her lips to the Commander's.

Astonished, Shepard froze.

It was..._weird_. Shepard's total life experience with kissing women was limited to Liara, and Traynor's attempts to deepen the kiss met with total and abject failure as Shepard's brain tried and failed to process the differences. Eventually, the lieutenant dropped back to the floor, breaking the contact. "Well... _what_ an anti-climax," she mumbled as the drugs finally swept her into unconsciousness.

Miranda, unable to contain her glee any longer, let out a guffaw of laughter. "Bloody hell, Shep," she wheezed, tears streaming down her face, "it's a good thing Traynor isn't dying. I'd hate to think she'd gone out with such a disappointment."

"Bite me, Miri," Shepard grumbled as she carefully laid Traynor on the ground and scanned the younger officer's vitals with her omni-tool. "She's gonna be out for a while, I think."

"Good. At least that way we can make sure you get back to your bondmate with your virtue intact."

Shepard groaned. "Ok, how long is this going to be a thing?"

"Oh, I should think at least the rest of your life, or my life, whichever is shorter," Miranda grinned.

"You have a spiteful sense of humour," Shepard accused.

"Mmm, and you've no idea how much I enjoy it." The raven-haired Spectre stalked around the prone signals officer and looked out over the Presidium. "Seems like the coast is clear. Should we clear off for now?"

"I think we'd better." Shepard decided. "We need to get Traynor to Chakwas, for the overdose if nothing else, and if Ann's been abducted I want this location secured. The quicker we can get to her, the better. Glyph?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Carry on with your analysis. Can you lock the lab out, stop anyone else from getting in?"

"Certainly, Commander."

"Good. We're going to want to find out more about our hitman, at the very least."

Stooping, she slid her hands under Traynor's arms. "Get her legs, Miri, and let's get out of here."

Miranda grinned, and Shepard grimaced as they manhandled the unconscious comms officer into the skycar. She had a bad feeling about this.

oOoOo

_GCV Normandy, Allliance Docks, Citadel_

Six hours later, with Traynor safely in the care of Dr. Chakwas, the crew had finished their intelligence gathering, and Liara was taking a little time to check over her feeds for any other intel on the missing scientist. They'd stripped Ann's lab of as much information as they could lay their hands on and transmitted it back to the broker network's servers, and EDI and Glyph were already working on analysing the data for leads. The dead turian had yielded surprisingly little information, but Shepard had ordered the body quarantined for Karin to perform a post-mortem. "I want to know if he's indoctrinated," she'd stated. "If he is, then it's another link in the chain connecting all of this to Leviathan."

Liara smiled to herself as she heard Shepard enter their cabin. The simple fact of their shared living space was still enough to spark a little thrill in her stomach, and she tensed slightly in anticipation of the caress she knew was coming. Sure enough, Shepard walked up behind her and placed warm, gentle hands on her shoulders. "Hey, Li."

"Good evening, Rachel."

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier, with the crashing joke. I didn't mean to upset you."

Liara tipped her head back against Shepard's shoulder with a sigh. "I know. But it's something I still find hard to joke about. Maybe in a decade or two."

Shepard pressed a whisper of a kiss at the spot where her neck and shoulder met. "It's something I find hard not to joke about," Shepard murmured. "It seems so unreal... ridiculous."

"To you," Liara reminded her. "Not to me, and sometimes you forget that."

"I do. Forgive me?" Shepard's lips ghosted around to the back of her neck, touched the central fold beneath her crests, and Liara shuddered involuntarily under the caress. Shepard's arms slid around her waist to hold her steady.

"Yes," Liara breathed, cocking her head to one side. "Although I do have another query you need to clear up for me." _You're not getting off that easily, my love._

"Oh?" Shepard tensed, immediately giving herself away. "About what?"

"Oh, I think you can guess." Liara stepped back a little and turned to face her blushing bondmate. "What's this I hear about you kissing Traynor?"

"Oh God," Shepard groaned, rolling her eyes. "That data was way too fast in transmission. OK, first, I'd like it on record that _Traynor_ kissed _me_. I did _not_ kiss her. It was strictly a one way thing. And she was bitterly disappointed."

Liara arched her eyebrow markings, trying desperately not to smile. "I find that hard to believe. After all," she brushed her thumb against Shepard's lips, "I find you quite adept in that department."

"Maybe that's just your naiveté talking," Shepard shot back, her lips twitching with the beginnings of a grin. "I could be a terrible kisser and you just don't have any way to benchmark."

"Oh, please," Liara did smile now, trying her best for sultry. "You might be my first and only lover, Rachel Shepard, but you weren't my first kiss."

Shepard gawped at her. "Wait, what?"

"I was sheltered, but not _that_ sheltered," Liara half-explained, enjoying seeing her bondmate so totally off-balance. "I did go to university, remember? I have been on dates without you, been drunk—well, _tipsy_—without you, been kissed without you, stayed up all night talking about my foolish dreams without you." Liara closed in and planted a quick kiss on Shepard's lips. "However, I will say that I enjoy the kissing far more with you than I ever did with anyone else, so you can't be that bad at it. Besides, it's not as if you don't get _plenty_ of practice."

"I was so shocked I froze," Shepard admitted, blushing.

Liara gaped at her. "You were _shocked_?"

"Yes!" Shepard threw an exasperated glance at the ceiling. "It may surprise you to learn that throughout my relatively short existence, women throwing themselves at me hasn't really been a regular happenstance. Men either, come to think of it. Traynor caught me totally by surprise, and I... froze."

"I will never understand humans," Liara chuckled, drawing Shepard into an embrace. "So many fools in a single species, to let you slip through their fingers and into my arms." She nipped lightly at her human's earlobe with her teeth. "You're adorable when you blush." Shepard shivered at the contact, and Liara tightened her hold, running her mouth lightly down the warm, sensitive skin of Shepard's neck. "You're adorable when that badass soldier armour opens up and there's just you inside." She popped the top button of Shepard's BDU shirt. "Literally and figuratively."

Shepard let out a soft, vulnerable whimper as Liara pushed her shirt open and placed an open-mouthed kiss just above her collarbone. "Ahhh... Don't you...ohhh... like my badass?"

"I like your badass very much." Liara lowered her hands to squeeze the body part in question, pulling Shepard's hips tightly against her own. "In fact, I might go so far as to say..."

"Chakwas to Shepard."

"Goddammit," Shepard muttered, giving Liara a rueful smile as she broke the asari's hold. "Hold that thought, Li. Doc, this had better be _overwhelmingly_ important."

"I thought you'd like to know that your signals officer has regained consciousness. I'm choosing to view her request that she be stuffed in an escape pod and fired into the nearest star as indicative of full memory retention prior to her overdose-induced loss of consciousness." The doctor paused for a beat. "I must say, Commander, I've never seen anyone blush _quite_ so hard for quite so long. It's making me _very_ curious. As is the fact that Miranda doesn't seem to be able to stop laughing every time she comes in to check on the Lieutenant's condition. Which is rather more often than I would consider normal."

"Oh merciful God," Shepard groaned. "All right, Karin, I'll come down and talk to Traynor, and then perhaps we can all get on with our lives."

"Thank you, Commander."

Shepard sighed. "This shouldn't take long," she offered apologetically as Liara smoothed her rumpled shirt back into place.

"See that it doesn't," she ordered. "You're off duty, and I want you all to myself for a few hours." So saying, Liara reached for the seal on her tunic and began to unfasten it, ever so slowly, enjoying the way Shepard's gaze zeroed in on her fingers, the way her tongue darted out unconsciously to wet her lips. "Get moving, Rachel," she encouraged. "You wouldn't want me to get bored and start without you, now would you?"

Shepard threw her a helpless glance of protest, sighed, and with what looked to be a titanic effort, turned and walked up the stairs and out of the cabin. Smiling, Liara stripped her tunic, boots and trousers in quick succession, and got comfortable on the bed. Something told her she wouldn't be waiting long.

oOoOo

Shepard stalked into the medbay, any residual awkwardness she might have felt regarding the situation with Traynor completely submerged by the hunger Liara's teasing had aroused. Chakwas was waiting for her just inside the door, and drew her quickly over to the doctor's desk. "Whatever happened down there," the medic began, "just... be gentle, OK?"

"I'm not the one she has to be worried about," Shepard noted. "I'm just fine about it. The jealous, immune-from-prosecution biotic goddess upstairs, on the other hand..."

Chakwas slapped her lightly on the arm in rebuke, eyes glittering with mirth. "Oh, you _must_ fill me in on this later. It sounds like one for the Normandy Hall of Fame."

"Yeah. Not gonna happen." Shepard tipped her head toward Traynor. "Can you give us a little privacy, please, Karin?"

"Of course," Chakwas said, winking as she walked toward the door.

Shepard watched her leave, then turned to approach the figure lying very still on the bed furthest from the door. "Traynor, I know for a _fact_ that you're not unconscious," she remarked as she reached the bedside, folding her arms across her chest.

Traynor cracked open one eye to regard Shepard warily. "I'd really like to be," she parried.

"Yeah well, that's as may be," Shepard smirked, "but, since you, surprisingly enough, didn't die, you're going to have to face this sooner or later. We can do it now and get it over with, or..." she grinned, "you can have this conversation tomorrow. With Liara. Your choice."

"Oh that's low, Commander," Traynor protested weakly. "Kick a girl while she's down. All right. Are you going to throw me off the ship?"

"Hell, no." Shepard tried to modify her burgeoning grin to a more reassuring expression. "It was only a kiss, Sam. And apparently, not a very good one."

"Oh, good God," Sam groaned. "I can't apologise enough, Commander. I honestly don't recall the last time I made such a complete arse of myself."

"It's a new high—or low—in my experience of you, that's for sure," Shepard chuckled, "but seriously, don't worry about it. Apology accepted."

"It's not going to bother you?" Traynor pressed, as though expecting something more.

"What, knowing you have a crush on me?" Shepard smiled at the riot of emotions that washed across Traynor's face. Guilt, surprise, affection, longing, and disappointment all rolled into the vid playing across the younger woman's face. "No, Sam, it's not going to bother me, since I've known about it for the better part of a year. It's not new information, y'know?"

"When did you realise?" Traynor prodded.

"Remember that time we talked about playing chess in the mess, just after Liara was injured on Tuchanka?"

"Yes." Traynor blushed. "All that time, and you never said anything?"

"What was I going to say? I let you down gently, I think, and there was no need to embarrass you by calling you out on it."

Traynor groaned again. "Christ, it's not fair. You're absolutely bloody perfect, aren't you?"

"Far from it, Sam," Shepard reached down and ruffled the younger woman's hair affectionately. "For one thing I can't kiss worth a damn." Leaning in, she laid a brief, chaste kiss on Traynor's forehead. "Although Liara's promised to let me practice."

"Then you shouldn't keep her waiting," Traynor said softly. "Thank you, Commander... for being you."

"Ah hell, think nothing of it. It's not like it's an effort for me." Shepard winked and patted Traynor on the head. "Get some sleep, LT, and I'll see you in the morning."

Stepping out of the medbay, Shepard nodded her thanks to the loitering doctor, and was just about to head to the elevator, when Miranda hailed her from the door of the XO's office. "Hey, Shep." The Australian grinned as she advanced out into the mess. "So, did Traynor ask for a repeat performance?"

Shepard was about to walk away to demonstrate her disdain when inspiration struck. She pivoted smoothly and met Miranda's amused gaze with a suggestive smirk. "I have three words for you, Miss Lawson. The Darkest Embrace."

Miranda's mouth fell open, her mirth evaporating. "How the hell did you..." she snapped her jaw shut with visible effort, eyes darting quickly around the mess for witnesses before directing a piercing glare at Shepard.

"_That's_ what I get for marrying the Shadow Broker," Shepard threw Miranda's earlier words back in her face with satisfied glee. "So, do we have a mutually assured destruction pact, you and I?"

Miranda glowered for a moment longer, then nodded tightly. "We do," she bit out.

"Excellent. Always nice talking to you, Miri."

"Screw you, Shep."

"Oooh, there must be something in the water supply today, all these women throwing themselves at me," Shepard sniggered, enjoying herself properly now. "You getting all hot for me there, Miss Lawson?"

"You're not nearly kinky enough for me," Miranda shot back acerbically. "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Well, I knew that. I hear that page ninety-four had a bookmark." Shepard sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Smokin'... though a little too convoluted for my taste." Leaning in close, she blew in Miranda's ear, then danced back out of range as the other Spectre swung for her. "Hah! Too slow, Lawson. Better luck next time. Now if you'll excuse me... duty calls." And with that, she legged it for the elevator, aware that Liara was waiting, and keen to revisit their earlier discussion.


End file.
